


Fatal Attraction

by Iridescent_opaleye



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Future, Historical Hetalia, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Violence, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-27 06:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iridescent_opaleye/pseuds/Iridescent_opaleye
Summary: Mira knew then that her mission was now standing on the edge of a knife. The moment she caught his gaze staring at her from across the ballroom, singling her out despite the sea of people between them, she knew. She felt her heart leap to her throat at the sight of those deep, violet eyes watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Such a perfectly exhibited poker face. He knows. A voice whispers at the back of her mind, causing a chill to run down her spine. Still, she can’t turn her back now.Play the role. Act like you belong. She repeated over and over again in her mind as she broke eye contact with the Russian, acting as if he was someone not worthy of her giving the time of the day.Mirava Velarios had a mission. And that was to spy on Joseph Stalin—Premier of the Soviet Union. It was a dangerous task. One she knew that could cost her everything. She had spent months mastering a plan to get herself close to the Kremlin. She had also made plans for escape should things go wrong. But what she never thought of adding into the formula of her plans was the complicated and unstable Ivan Braginsky himself. He was relentless in his chase for her and she was just as unyielding to bend.





	1. A Snake in the Garden

**_July 15, 1945, 11:45 PM_ **

  


         Mira knew then that her mission was now standing on the edge of a knife. The moment she caught his gaze staring at her from across the ballroom, singling her out despite the sea of people between them, she knew. She felt her heart leap to her throat at the sight of those deep, violet eyes watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Such a perfectly exhibited poker face. _He knows._ A voice whispers at the back of her mind, causing a chill to run down her spine. Still, she can’t turn her back now. 

_Play the role. Act like you belong._ She repeated over and over again in her mind as she broke eye contact with the Russian, acting as if he was someone not worthy of her giving the time of the day. Instead, she smiled at the young man at her side, her escort for the evening. First Lieutenant Nikolai Markov was a tall, strapping young man, with blue eyes and pale blond hair. The son of Major General Mikhail Markov, Nikolai was a lot like his father. According to her sources, even at the age of twenty-two, Nikolai shows great promise. Exhibiting prowess, skills, and wits in battle uncommon for people his age in the face of war. She had read his entire military background and she had to admit, Nikolai had potential. That’s why she chose him as her ticket to this private soiree. He was a gentleman through and through, and also a respected member of the militia. No one would dare question him. 

 

**_**Six weeks earlier...**_ **

  


      She had planned out this special encounter for days. Everything must go down as planned, she thought. Her dark brown eyes followed the tall Soviet Union officer out on the street from behind the glass window of her apartment. The goal was to establish contact and to gain his trust. She had learned through her sources that Nikolai Markov spent most of the warm, summer nights in a nearby park outside the _Kremlin_. He would stand silently by himself, smoking his cigarettes while watching the tranquil waters of the Moskva River. It was a perfect place to set up first impressions. 

      Her mind wandered back to the time she was given this assignment. 

      She was sitting on a chair in the office of the most powerful person in the United States of America. From her seat, she studied the man before her. He was standing by the window, watching the grounds of the White House. In all the years that he was president, she never remembered seeing him so tired and worn out. She knew that his health was slowly deteriorating but he always seemed to pull through. She silently studied the worn lines on his face, the dark circles under his eyes, and the sunken hollows of his cheeks. From what she could see, she knew that her president needed more than rest. Or she feared he might collapse from exhaustion. She opened her mouth to say something but no sound came out of it. Biting her lip, she cursed herself for her awkwardness. Usually, it was Alfred who’d act as the bridge between her and their president. But Alfred wasn’t in the States at the moment. He was busy at the European war front, battling Germany and seizing key German cities. It couldn’t be helped, she had to step up and take the responsibility. Alfred entrusted this to her. She wouldn’t fail him. Gathering her courage, she spoke up.

      “Mr. President, would you like me to make some tea?”

      She watched as he glanced back at her, his brows raised in surprise before they settled back down. 

      “That won’t be necessary, Miss Velarios.” There it was, that formality that he kept imposing on her. She felt more awkward the more he used it. How come he always calls Alfred by his first name and not her? Sure she wasn’t exactly close friends with him but still, they knew each other for more than twelve years now. She had watched over him as he had watched over her and her people. She had seen him grow and change while she remained unchanging over the years. Being formal with her was completely outdated since they were more than acquaintances.

      “Please. It’ll only be a moment.” She pleaded. 

      “If I may so ask, why? You hardly speak to me aside from situations that entail work. So, why now?” His forehead creased in confusion.

      “You’re my president. It’s my job to look after you.” She answered, looking him in the eyes.

      “You’re job, huh?” He muttered as he gazed back out towards the window, his eyes full of melancholy and fatigue.

      “And besides, Alfred would kill me if I let anything happen to you.” She murmured, as she lowered her gaze to the floor, her lips set into a frown.

      His answering chuckle made her eyes snap back into attention, turning her gaze back to her boss. 

      “Alfred wouldn’t kill you. He’s too fond of you,” He said as he turned back to face her, his eyes twinkling with mirth and a smile playing at his lips. It was the first time he looked at her like that. She could feel the awkwardness between them slowly dissolving.

      “If by fond you mean he likes to annoy me than yes, I think that’s possible.” She said, mirroring his smile.

      He chuckled again before sighing, the expression on his face turning wistful. “I haven’t laughed like this for a very long time.”

      Her smile dropped, her eyes softening at the man. “War affects us all.”

      “Yes it does.” She watched him sigh through his nose, his shoulders drooping from exhaustion. She could see that he was almost at his limits. She needed to act fast.

      “Which is why you must let me make that tea. We can’t have you collapse from exhaustion,” She said as she stood up. “Please, it’ll only be a moment. I’ll be back.” And without waiting for an answer she left.

      It didn’t take her long and she came back, bringing a tray with the much needed tea.

      “That smells wonderful.” He remarked from where he was seated as she set the tray down on the mahogany table.

      “It’s chamomile tea. It’ll help you relax.” She handed him a steaming cup.

      “Thank you.” 

      She sat herself down on the chair, watching him sip the herbal drink as she took a cup for her own. She watch him sigh, closing his eyes as he took another sip.

      “This is delicious,” He said, giving her a smile. “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” She answered with a smile before taking a sip of her tea.

      For a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence. Forgetting about the raging war that was tearing the world apart. But time was never the kind one. Finally, President Roosevelt set his cup down on top of his desk. His demeanor turning back to one she was accustomed to seeing him in. It seems like their time for relaxation was over. Setting her cup down, she looked him directly in the eyes. Waiting for him to speak.

      “Miss Velarios, I called you here today to give you an assignment.”

      She felt herself perk up in surprise but she kept her silence, waiting for him to continue. Whatever her assignment was, judging from his grim tone it was bound to be a difficult task.

      “As you know, we just held the Yalta Conference last month. During the meeting, we discussed about the re-establishment of the war torn nations in Europe. Previous agreements were ratified. Post-war Germany will have three zones of occupation. One for each of the principal Allies. That includes the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union, and the United States. France will also be given a zone, carved out from UK and US zones.”

      He paused for a moment, before continuing. “Stalin has also agreed to enter the Pacific war against the Japanese Empire. But only in three months after Germany’s defeat and the war in Europe is concluded.”

      “That is promising news.” She remarked. Based from what she heard from her sources, the atrocities done by the Nazis in Europe were just as terrible in Asia and Oceania. Rumours of hospitals being raided and the massacre of innocents at the hands of the Japanese army were only but a few. This war had to stop now. 

      “Is it though?” Roosevelt asks, his tone both challenging and doubtful.

      She narrowed her eyes at him, her tone becoming stronger. “Of course it is. This world has seen enough bloodshed already. If there’s a way to end this war, than we must take it.” 

       His eyes studied her for a moment, noting the impatience and frustration she was radiating. “You are tired of this war.” 

      Her shoulders slumped in admission. “Of course, I am. Who isn’t?”

      “I share your sentiments.” As if he couldn’t get serious enough, his tone turned graver. “Which is why I brought you here today.”

      She steeled her nerves. “I’m listening.” 

      “Most of my advisors have been saying that I’ve been too lenient and naive with our dealings with the Soviet Union. Do you agree?” 

     “Of course not.” Her answer was automatic. “You did what you had to do. You saw the role that the Soviet Union had to play in this war. Without the temporary alliance between the Western Allies and the Soviet Union, the tides wouldn’t have turned to our favour. We cannot afford a divided front against our enemies.”

      Roosevelt nodded. “My point exactly.”

     “But just because you have to be cordial with Stalin doesn’t mean you can’t be cautious.” She said, giving him an honest opinion.

      She watched as he started to smile. “I knew you would understand.” As soon as it came, the smile left his face only to be replaced by a grim frown. “I have a task for you. I cannot trust this mission to anyone else.”

_Oh boy, here it comes. The moment of truth. _“Go on.”__

      “I want you to spy on Stalin. I need to know what he’s planning.” He said, acting like he was the bearer of bad news.

      She kept her face neutral though she was starting to feel like her heart just jumped out of her chest and the contents of her stomach were swimming with unease. This was a suicide mission. 

      “Alfred would never agree.” She found herself speaking. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried for her sake. She’d been gallivanting around the world, gathering intelligence from other nations. This wasn’t a first for her. Still, to spy on the Soviet Union, specifically Russia... She knew Alfred would go ballistic. She could already see him sick with worry; inhaling one burger after another while he’d be ranting about her recklessness at the same time. She could already feel her nose wrinkling at the image.

      “I know. But right now, Alfred has to focus his mind on the war. He can’t afford to be distracted.” Roosevelt explained.

      _In other words, Alfred didn’t have to know._ She did not know what to feel about that but what he said was true though. Alfred already had too much on his mind. It would be best not to let him know, just for the time being. 

      Mir couldn't help but study her President again. She noted the way he was striving to keep his back straight and erect-- like he was carrying the entire world on his shoulders. Somehow, even if she wasn't a leader to her people, she could relate to the feeling. The sheer effort of keeping such a facade must be killing him inside. She couldn't help but sigh. If Roosevelt was this alarmed by Stalin, she knew his heart was on the right for giving her this mission, as suicidal as it may be. Steeling her resolve, all thoughts of hesitation flew out the window. She can bear the danger and uncertainty if only to help her friends and her people. _Oh well, it seems it can’t be helped._

       “All right.” Her voice was low and quiet. Still it was loud enough to shatter the silence in the room. 

      “What?” The President asks, his eyes wide with disbelief.

      “I’ll do it. I’ll be your spy.” She said, louder for him to hear.

      He continued to stare at her as if he still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She stood up, narrowing her eyes on him. “It’s a good precautionary measure. If Stalin plans to go against his promises and the set agreements, you will know in advance. That way you’ll be able to make counter measures ahead of time.”

      She watched silently as he stood up. Taking her hand in his, he squeezed gently. The emotions in his eyes were holding a mixture of relief, remorse, and sorrow. “Mira, thank you.”

      “Don’t thank me yet.” And with that, she gently removed her hand from his and left.

      That was _three_ months ago. Not long after she left, Roosevelt passed away. Now, she has a new president. One whose distrust on Stalin was more apparent. It was also sad to say that ever since she got here, she had to lie low and had to rely on her other spies to relay information to her. The _Kremlin_ surely lived up to its name for it was impenetrable. Her spies had said that the security was top notch and that the _NKGB_ were always watching. She couldn’t get close to the palace grounds without raising suspicion. That’s why she resorted to stalking and latching into a high-ranking military official. One that could get her in and out of the palace without raising suspicion. She could probably go on and on about the recent events that happened these last few months, but right now she had more important matters to attend to. Thinking that she had waited long enough, she grabbed her embroidery kit and headed outside.

      Throughout most of the walk, she kept her head down, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to herself. The streets of Moscow were bustling with activity. Men, women, children, and soldiers carrying out the last of their duties and errands as the day neared its end. The sun was still up and judging from its appearance it was not bound to set anytime soon. Around her, portraits of Joseph Stalin and emblems of the Soviet Union plastered the city in white and red. Not only a literal slap to the city and its people, but also a steady reminder of who was in power. _But only for now_ , she thought. As a country, she knew that power was always fleeting. It was a lesson she had seen time and time again. 

    The first time she had entered Russia, and seen its state, she couldn't help but pity its people. Stalin's word was law and freedom was the one thing the people couldn't have. They had to read what the state allowed, see what the state allowed and listen to what the state allowed. Those who attempted to listen, read or do anything else met severe punishments. Everybody knew of the labor camps and that was enough of a deterrent. 

      She slowed her train of thought as she neared the park. From where she was, she could already see Nikolai standing at his usual spot. He was already holding a lit cigarette between his fingers as he gazed on the view of the river before him. Hearing her slowly approach, he glanced behind, seeing her. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgement before sitting down on a bench not too far nor too close from him. He nodded in return, watching her as he took small, slow draws of his cigarette. She kept herself busy as she took the contents out from the kit she brought. With her unfinished embroidery and needle in hand, she started with her task. And in a few minutes, she found herself lost in concentration at her work. She had learned the skill ever since she was a child, back in the 1500's when she was a colony in the New World. But that was a long, long time ago. She couldn't even remember the last time she held a needle and thread between her fingers for activities outside the medical field. Surprisingly, her fingers seemed not to have lost their skill, as they continued the task as if having a mind of its own. She kept her head down, appearing immersed at her task. Still, she could feel his gaze on her. She waited a few minutes more, relaxing her posture to appear nonthreatening. He continued to watch her for a moment before he finally took back to his mundane hobby of watching the river. He probably grew tired of watching her. _Perfect._

      From time to time, she'd look up from her embroidery to see the light of the sunset reflecting on the water's surface. Moscow's atmosphere might be bleak and devoid of laughter and happiness, but right at that moment, the city was breathtaking. She couldn't help the wistful feeling that bloomed in her chest. Oh how she longed for some paper and pencil between her hands so she could draw the beautiful scene before her. The entire city glowed with the dying light of the setting sun. From the distance, she could see the Kremlin and other towering landmarks of Moscow. A historic city with a background splashed in pastel hues of pink, yellow, orange and purple. No wonder Markov liked to come here around this time. Carefully, she let her gaze fall on him, studying his silent profile. The sun highlighted his features, casting shadows on the sharp angles of his face. For a moment, he somewhat looked a little lost and lonely. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she returned her gaze down. Letting out a small sigh through her nose, she continued on with her needlework. 

      As time passed, the park grew quieter, with the people already heading home towards their families. Twilight had arrived and the wind was starting to pick up. It rustled the leaves on the trees and made her hair whip around in chaos. She had finally finished her embroidery. She quickly knotted the thread before snipping it with her trusty scissors. With careful hands, she dismounted the fabric from the embroidery hoop. Finally releasing the cloth from its tight hold, she held the needlework before her. She couldn't help but admire the finished output in satisfaction. There's just something to be said about that nice feeling of accomplishment after finishing one's hard work.

      Deciding it was now time for the grand finale, she waited for the perfect moment for the wind to pick up. When it finally came, the strong gust _'accidentally'_ whipped the fabric from her hands. Crying out in alarm, she stood up and was about to follow the escaped needlework. Unfortunately, she _conveniently_ forgot that there were some sewing materials on her lap. The moment she stood, her embroidery hoop and scissors fell to the ground in a clutter, along with some of her threads. As if hearing her cry, the Russian soldier came to her aid and raced after the misbehaving embroidery. From the corner of her eyes, she watched as he grabbed the fabric before it plunged into the river. Smiling in secret satisfaction, she resumed picking the scattered materials off the ground. She could hear his approaching footsteps behind her. She feigned ignorance at this, keeping her back towards him. She waited until he was close enough before she made her next move. Without any warning, she turned around. As if she wasn’t expecting the hard, muscled chest she would bump into. She felt her body stiffen at the physical contact. Steeling her nerves, she reminded herself that she was on the job. She had a role to play. Her eyes went wide with surprise before blinking slowly at the Russian man before her. He was gorgeous, she’d give him that. But not enough to tempt her. As for him, he gawked at her, with blue eyes wide with shock and cheeks reddening fast.

      “I’m so sorry, Sir. I did not see you.” She apologized as she lowered her gaze, backing up a few steps, trying to act all flustered and meek. 

      He continued to stare at her face before coughing to hide his embarrassment. “It’s no problem, Miss.” he said before dutifully handing her back her embroidery.

      Inside, she couldn't help the feeling of surprise from blooming deep in her chest. She never thought that he’d have a cute, naive side when flustered. But then again, she remembered he was still quiet young, only twenty two years old. Having enlisted in the army at a very young age, he mustn't have had many encounters with women.

      “Thank you, Sir?” she said as she met his gaze with as small smile.

      “Markov. Nikolai Markov. But you can call me Nik.”

      “Thank you, Nik.” She gave him a soft smile as she played with the fabric in her hands.

      “And you, Miss?”

      “Please call me Katerina. Katerina Navarrete Medina.”

      “Medina? That’s not a Russian name.”

      “It’s Spanish.”At his look of surprise she elaborated. “My family moved here when I was very young. I'm here at the capital with my grandfather because of his work.” She kept her voice steady, the lie rolling from her tongue like quicksilver. After all, she had years of practice.

      “I see.” He said as he gave her a small, hesitant smile. Looks like he bought her backstory.

      They continued to smile at each other, unsure what to do next before Nikolai decided to break the silence. “You should head back home, Katerina. It’s getting late.”

      She nods. She was about to step around him to get her kit when he blocked her path. She felt her brows rise at his behavior. He was bolder than she thought. _Good. This would make things a whole lot faster._

      “Can I escort you home? It wouldn’t be right of me to leave you alone to walk the streets at night.”

      “Well, aren’t you a gentleman. It would be greatly appreciated. Thank you, Nik.” She gave him a close-lipped smile.

      A few days later, they’d continue to meet up. They’d arrange private meetings at the park, sometimes by the river, or near the cathedral. She was slowly gaining his trust. She couldn’t help but loathe herself for doing this to Nikolai. He was such a nice, sweet guy. But at the moment, she had no choice. She was bound by her duty as a country. She cannot disobey her president’s orders. She had to do this. A few more sweet rendezvouses, and finally Nikolai asked her the question she had been waiting to hear. 

      "Would you like to come with me into the Victory Celebration at the Kremlin?

      "Nik, I would love to." _Bingo._

      The celebration that Nikolai was talking about was no other than the Soviet Union’s victory celebration against the German fascists. She was one step closer to her next objective; Attending the party and finding out what Stalin’s next move was. Ever since the Yalta Conference, news of Germany’s imminent reorganization were widespread. Members of the Union were now buzzing with excitement. She was hardly shocked by this. She was sure that the Union would have their hands full in the upcoming months. What with the upcoming demilitarization, denazification, and annexation of Germany. With the war almost over, anyone would have thought that the world had seen enough bloodshed. It was sad to say though that some people never seem to learn anything. It was no secret that tension was increasing between the Western Allied Forces and the Soviet Union. Sooner or later, another war would emerge. And it was her duty to help prepare her people for what was about to come. Her mission now was to gather every bit of information she could and to relay them to her boss. Oh how she wished it was as simple as it sounded. As if smuggling herself into the country hadn't been hard enough. Now she had to get herself into the Kremlin, the seat of political power of the Soviet Union, obtain as much information as possible without detection, then to get out of the country alive.

 

**_July 15, 1945, 8:00 PM_**

  


     As soon as they had arrived, they were immediately ushered into a large, lavish ballroom in the _Kremlin_. The place was already overflowing with people of great power and influence. Men and women wearing nothing but their very best attires, sipping wine as laughter and music filled the air. 

      Her eyes immediately scanned the layout of the place. There were guards stationed at the balconies and inside the ballroom. There were bound to be more circling the perimeter of the Kremlin, both inside and outside. She expected nothing less from the Soviet Union. Her gaze went back to the guests in the hopes of finding a prominent Russian politician or military officer in Stalin's inner circle. So far, no such luck.

      "Katerina." A voice called out from her side, drawing her attention back to the person who was gently holding her hand.

      "Yes, Nikolai? she asked, as her lips quirked up into a sweet smile, her brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

      “I know this is sudden but would you like to meet my parents?”

      Her eyes widened in shock as she gazed at his face, so earnest and hopeful. His lips stretched into a brave smile, though his eyes were filled with doubt and fear. From the weeks that passed since she knew him, she learned what Nikolai’s biggest motivation was. He wanted his father’s approval more than anything in the world. He had spent most of his life trying to please his parents that he never experienced the concept of being loved just the way he was. And now, with the way he looked at her, it made her sick to her stomach. It broke her heart that after tonight, she’d probably never see him again.

      “Nik, I...” She found herself at a loss for words. Nik’s hopeful smile slowly dropped at her lack of answer.

      Swallowing the lump in her throat, she quickly mustered a smile. “This is too sudden. Are you sure?” 

      Sensing her unease, he pulled her close to him. Placing his warm hands on her shoulder, he met her anxious brown eyes with soft, gentle, blue eyes. 

      “I want you to understand. I’m not pressuring you into anything you don’t want to. I just want you to meet my family. That’s all. I’m not expecting anything more from you that you can’t give. You don’t have to be afraid.” He said as he gave her a small, reassuring smile.

      She stared at him for a moment, weighing the sincerity of his words. Finally, she gave him a smile in return. “All right. I’ll meet your parents.”

      His smile grew wide at her answer before he tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow. They slowly made their way through the crowd with Nikolai guiding her to the direction of his parents. 

      “There they are.” He said as his gaze settled on a middle-aged couple who were in a deep conversation with another couple. As if sensing their presence, Nikolai’s father patted the other man’s arm is camaraderie, their interaction coming to a close. They watched as the other couple strolled away.

      “Father!” Nikolai called out, raising his hand in greeting as they walked the remaining distance to his parents.

      “Nikolai. About time. I was just looking for you.” The man answered. He was a tall man but Nikolai towered over him by a few inches. Like the rest of the military officers, they were wearing their dress uniforms, the military equivalent to the white tie dress code.

      She released Nikolai as he hugged his father. She watched as his father clapped him in the back before releasing him. 

      “Mother.” Nikolai greeted as he kissed his mother’s cheeks.

      “Nik, where have you been? And who is this young lady with you?” she says as she focuses her jade green eyes to meet her brown ones.

      “Mother, we just arrived.” Nik explains before he took her hand in his, pulling her close to his side.

      Nikolai’s parents eyed her with curiosity, studying her appearance. She was dressed rather simply in a sleeveless, emerald green, floor-length gown made out of silk. Her dark hair was sleeked back into a simple, elegant chignon. She had on minimal jewelry, only a pair of small diamond studs to decorate her ears. She suddenly felt like a deer in headlights with their eyes on her.

      “Mother, Father, I’d like you to meet Katerina Navarette Medina. Katerina, these are my parents, Mikhail and Elena Markov.”

      “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She said, drawing a friendly smile on her lips.

      They watched his parents exchange looks before turning back to them.

      “It’s nice to meet you too, Katerina. Where are you from?” Nikolai’s father, Mikhail asked. She could already see the wheels of inquisition turning in his head.

       “Sverdlovsk. My family originally hails from Madrid but we moved here when I was ten.” She answered him, keeping her voice steady as she recited parts of her back story.

      “Sverdlovsk, you say? What brings you here to the capital?” 

      “I’m accompanying my Grandfather. He works as a doctor to the Soviet Army.”

      “I see. And what do you do, Katerina?” this time, it was Nikolai’s mother, Elena who asked.

      “Excuse me?” she asked, playing the role of the nervous girl meeting someone’s parents for the first time.

     “What do you do for a living?”

      “Oh, I worked as a nurse and an assistant in the local hospital back in Sverdlovsk. But now, I’m just helping my Grandfather with whatever he needs here.”

      “You seem to be very close to him.” Elena remarked.

      “Yes. He’s the only Grandfather I have left.”

      “What’s your Grandfather’s name?” Mikhail asked. 

      “Mateo Medina Vidal.”

      “Ah, so you’re Mateo’s granddaughter?”

     “Yes. You know him, Sir?”

      He nods before answering. “Only recently. Quite man you’re grandfather, that is. But seems to have a good head on his shoulders.”

      She smiles tenderly at that. “Yes, he does.”

      Elena opened her mouth as if to speak when a man in a green military uniform comes to them. 

      “I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation.” He says as he bowed his head in apology.

      “No big deal, Dmitri,” said Mikhail, “What is it?”

      “The _Vozhd_ would speak to you now, sir.”

      She tried to contain her interest at what the man, Dmitri just said. _Vozhd_ meant leader and that could only pertain to one person.

      “All right. Just give me a moment.” Mikhail said. Dmitri only nods.

      “Well it seems that I must go. Katerina, it was lovely to meet you.”

      She gives a small bow with her head, a smile playing at her lips. “Likewise.”

      “I’ll see you all later.” And with that he was gone, along with Dmitri.

      Suddenly, she felt a familiar tingle on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her. Her instincts were hardly ever wrong. Her dark eyes quickly darted from side to side, trying to find the perpetrator. But in the sea of people, she knew that it would be difficult, in fact impossible.

    _Act natural._ She opened her mouth to start another conversation but before she could, the orchestra started another song. Slower this time. _A waltz._

      “Katerina, would you honor me with a dance?” Nik asked, holding his hand towards her in invitation.

     “Nik, I would love to but,” she said as she glanced unsurely at Elena, “What about your mother?” 

     “Mother wouldn’t mind, right Mother?” he asks, lifting a mischievous brow at her direction.

      “Oh, go you two. It’s fine.”

      “Are you sure?” she asks again, just to be sure.

      “Yes, yes! Now go, shoo! You two lovebirds enjoy!”

      “Mother!” Nikolai hissed out, his cheeks turning bright red.

      She wasn’t any better. She could feel hers’ reddening as well. She lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling conscious as Nik lead her to the dance floor. 

      “Sorry about that. My Mother’s just...” Nikolai tried to explain as he placed a hand on her waist, drawing her near as she placed a hand on top of his other arm.

      “It’s fine. I’m sure she meant no harm.” She gave him a reassuring smile as they started to move to the music. For a moment, they just danced, allowing their bodies to get accustomed to the rhythm of the music.

      “You look really beautiful tonight.” Nikolai finally said, his gaze never faltering as they danced.

      “You already said that to me, Nik.” She breathes out a laugh. “When you came to pick me up at home.”

      “I know. I just wanted to tell you again.” he said, the corners of his lips tilting up.

      “Well, thank you. Again. You’re not looking bad yourself.”

      It was his turn to laugh. “Thank you.”

      They descended into silence, their bodies moving with the magnetic flow of the song. The entire time, Nikolai stared at her. With eyes so full of trust and something else; something she did not have the heart to name. Her stomach started to twist with dread and guilt. She wrenched her eyes away from him, bowing her head so he couldn’t see her face. She desperately needed a distraction. She opened her mouth to say something. Anything.

      “Your parents seem nice.” She said, hoping small talk could put her mind to rest.

      “They’re good people. Are your parents still back in Sverdlosk?”

      “Oh, um my parents are dead.” The lie automatically slipped from her mouth, adding another weight to the amount of guilt settling in the pit of her stomach. She kept her head down, unable to meet his gaze. Not when she had been spouting nothing but lies since the moment she had met him.

      “I am so sorry, Katerina.” She couldn’t see his face but his voice was nothing but gentle and sympathetic.

      A lump started to form at the back of her throat. 

_You wouldn’t be saying that if you really knew who I was._

      “It’s fine. It was a long time ago.” She found herself saying, despite the feeling that her throat felt clogged with emotions.

      “Hey, look at me.” Nikolai said as he placed a hand under her chin, tilting her head up gently. 

      She still couldn’t meet his gaze. Not when guilt and self-loathing ripped her from the insides. Deep down, she knew that her feelings weren’t important. There were so many things at stake should she fail at her mission tonight. The next conference was in two days time. She needed information to relay to her boss immediately. She can’t allow her emotions to get in the way. Again, she was reminded how much of a prison duty could be.

      “I’m sorry I brought the topic up, Katerina. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He said, his voice so full of remorse.

      _Stop that. Don’t feel sorry for me._

      She gave a small shake with her head, forcing a smile to stretch on her lips as she finally looked at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Nik. Please don’t apologize.”

      “Still, I feel like...” Nik started to say but left his sentence unfinished. 

      She watched as his eyes narrowed with frustration, his mouth setting into a frown.

      She slowly felt the corner of her lips lift into a reassuring smile. “I know, Nik. It’s okay.”

      His face immediately softens, his eyes turning tender as he gazed deep into her brown ones. “Katerina, if you need me for anything. Anything at all. I just want you to know you that I’m your friend. You can trust me.”

      She could feel her eyes widening a little before they softened too with a smile. She couldn’t help but feel touched by his words. They were sincere. She had trained for a very long time to distinguish lies from the truth. Again, the guilt was there, swallowing her up inside.

      “Thank you, Nik. I’ll always remember that.” She says as she gazed into his eyes, memorizing the kindness she could see in them. For only God knows she didn’t deserve it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) One of the Japanese War crimes during WW2 was the Alexandra Hospital Massacre. Japanese forces stormed the Singaporean hospital and slaughtered patients and the medical staff. People undergoing surgeries weren't even spared.
> 
> 2)The Yalta Conference was the second conference held by the Big Three.


	2. Know the Enemy

_**July 15, 1945, 8:35 PM**_

  


     After the dance, they made their way back to Elena only to find that she was gone from the spot where they last left her.

     “She must have seen a friend and had gone with him or her, or else she would have stayed.” Nikolai said as he eyed their surroundings looking for his mother.

     She glanced around her, surveying the other guests for any sign of Elena. “I’m sure she couldn’t have gone far.”

     “Oh well. I’m sure we’ll see her again later,” Nik said with a sigh of resignation.

     She gave him a smile for comfort when a dark-haired man around Nik’s age walks up to them, a stunning blonde at his side.

     “Nikolai, where have you been, comrade? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He says as he claps a hand on Nikolai’s shoulder in camaraderie, a grin plastered on his face.

     “Vlad!” Nik imitated the gesture, a warm smile stretching across his lips.

     “Here I thought you’d miss out on all the fun again.” The man called Vlad joked.

     “Not this time, old friend.” Nik said before stepping aside, placing a hand around her waist, drawing her close to him. She watched Vlad’s hazel eyes glitter with curiosity at the sight of her.

     “Vlad, I’d like you to meet Katerina Navarrete Medina. Katerina, this is Vladimir Vasiliev. We’ve known each other since childhood.”

     “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Vladimir.” She greeted him, a smile perched on her lips.

     “Please, call me Vlad. It’s nice to meet you too, Katerina. And may I say that you’ve come at the most opportune moment.” 

     “Why is that?” she asked, her brows crinkling with confusion.

     “Because, Nik over here finally has a shot of getting a life.” He said as he slapped Nik’s back with a teasing smile.

     “Vlad...” Nikolai narrowed his eyes with annoyance at his friend. “Before you start making fun of me, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”

     At Nikolai’s words, they turned their eyes to the blonde woman standing next to Vlad. She had a smile that reminded Mira of a cat’s. Like she was up to no good. There was something about this woman that she didn’t like. But she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Her instincts told her to be on her guard.

     “Oh, right. Forgive me, where are my manners?” he said with a sheepish smile. “Everyone, I would like you to meet Alina Grigorieva. Alina, this is—“

     “ Katerina and Nikolai. So I’ve heard.” She said, her saccharine smile never leaving her face as she fixed her grey eyes on them.

     “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alina.” Nikolai said, always the civil one.

     “Likewise,” She said with a nod. “How long have you two known each other?” she asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

     Mira frowned inwardly at the innocent question. But she kept the pleasant smile on her face. She could be another spy. Or one of the Union’s guards posing as a guest. Or worse, a member of the secret police. The list could go on and on. 

     “It’s been six weeks now, I guess.” Nikolai answers as he flicked his eyes to meet hers’ before looking back at Alina.

     “I see.” She replies. She opened her mouth as if to say more, when the orchestra’s music came to a halt. 

     From the far side of the room, they watched as a man wearing an immaculate white suit stepped into a podium. Their small group wasn’t the only one who noticed. The rest of the guests started to keep their silence, waiting for the man to speak. Behind the man stood a long row of people. From where she stood, she couldn’t see that much, no thanks to her small stature and the towering giants in front of her. But she had a good guess on who their identities were. Judging from the number of people behind him, she’d say they were the Union Republics of the Soviet Union. Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, and so many more.

     As they continued to watch, she carefully kept the unreadable mask on her face. Though her stomach was starting to stir with anticipation. Anticipation for what she wasn’t sure. It was safer to be on her guard, so she kept her senses sharp. This place was full of wolves waiting to sink their fangs on unsuspecting prey.

     “Friends! Comrades! I welcome you here to celebrate the end of World War Two.” The man spoke, his voice carrying through the vast expanse of the ballroom. Around her people started clapping. Not wanting to stand out, she clapped with them. 

     “Now I know that the war ended last May but you know what they say, it’s never too late to celebrate victory. “ The man laughed at his own joke.

     Cheers and laughter erupted from the crowd. She couldn’t help but mentally snort at the situation. _Who knew that the great dictator of the Soviet Union would turn out to be a comedian?_

     “It’s never too late especially when it was us, the Soviet Union! Who brought down the Fall of Berlin and ensuring Germany’s complete surrender and defeat!”

     As if the cheers couldn’t get louder, it did and it was starting to give her a headache.

     “My comrades, a new age is coming! And I promise you, if you stand by me, I will lead everyone and the Soviet Union into more greatness! No one will be able to stop us! ”

     The cheers and roars of the crowd became deafening. It continued for a few minutes more, as they watched Joseph Stalin step down from the podium. The peoples’ applause showering him. From behind him, the nations of the Soviet Union followed after him like ducklings following their mother.

     Finally the cheers died down and the orchestra’s music played once more. Couples started to move to the dance floor once again while others resumed their previous conversations.

     “Katerina, can I have this dance?” Vlad asked, his friendly eyes sparkling with amusement.

     “Oh, uh—“ She looked up at Nikolai in hesitation.

     “Go ahead.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

     “See, Nik won’t mind.” Vlad said with a wink.

     She breathed out a laugh at his antics. “I would love too—that is of course if you don’t mind that I borrow him for a moment, Alina?” She asked, raising a brow at the blonde.

     “Only if Nikolai could honour me with a dance as well,” She said while giving him a flirtatious smile.

     She watched Nikolai bow his head, indulging her. “It would be my honour. Shall we?” He said, placing a hand out for her to take. Alina took his hand without hesitation. 

     She watched them stroll into the ballroom before she took Vlad’s offered hand. Vlad led her to the dance floor and with the music, they started dancing.

 

 

  


     Hour after hour passed, and she still couldn’t find any information worth relaying to her boss. She had already spent most of the night dancing, drinking and conversing with Nikolai, Vlad, and Alina. Throughout it all, she kept her eyes and ears open for anything. All she could hear were news about Germany’s reorganization and the Soviet Union’s unquestionable power. She cursed her rotten luck. She was running out of time. Her mind contemplated what she should do now. If she snuck into Stalin’s office... No. On a night like this, she was sure that Stalin had heightened the security around the Kremlin. Damn, she had to do something with the little time she had left.

     Suddenly she felt that same eerie feeling of someone’s heavy gaze on her. Careful to keep the amused smile on her face, she scanned the crowd, searching for the culprit. Again, she failed at spotting her creepy observer.

     “So Katerina,” a voice drawled out, drawing her attention back to their conversation. “What do you like most about Nikolai?” Alina asked, her face eager and curious. _The nosy bitch._

     From beside her, Nikolai coughed—probably choking from his own spit. _The poor guy. He’s probably feeling so attacked right now._

     Still, she didn’t lose the smile on her face. “Well that is a tough question to answer, Alina.”

     “Oh, come on. Spill the beans, Katerina.” This time it was Vlad that spoke, his tone teasing.

     She looked to Nikolai, an exasperated smile on her lips. As if he understood her, he turned to Vlad and Alina, his tone chastising. “Hey, if she doesn’t want to answer the question, then you can’t make her.”

     “Oh, you two are no fun.” Alina pouted. Mira suddenly felt the urge to rip those red lips with her nails. “I just thought Katerina would share what she likes the most about you. It’s a harmless question after all.”

     The bitch was goading her. _Fine. Game on, bitch._

     “Well if it means that much to you, Alina, I will answer your question.”

     She watched the other three wait with bated breath for her answer.

     “Nikolai is a great guy. And there are plenty of things I like about him.” She started, turning her gaze towards him. Not breaking eye contact, she held his gaze. “But what I like the most about him is that, no matter what kind of day I’m having, he’s the person I want to talk to the most.” She said pouring all the sincerity into her voice. She watched his eyes widen at her words. Something flashed inside their blue depths before his gaze softened with affection at her. She knew it was wrong of her to get his hopes up. But everything she said, it was all true. Nikolai was a great friend to have. And she was certain that he was going to make some girl very lucky someday. She couldn’t stop the pang of sadness that enveloped her heart at the thought. Tearing her eyes away from him, she looked straight back at Alina. “So that’s my answer.”

     “Aww, you guys are so sweet. I’m jealous.” Vlad gushed out, grinning wickedly.

     “Oh don’t be jealous, Vlad. I’m sure Alina here would be more than willing to tell us what she likes most about you.” This time it was her turn to flash a smug smile at the other woman.

     Alina only narrowed her grey eyes at her for a moment before she stretched her lips into a sugary smile. “Of course. Vlad?” She started to say, gazing back at him.

     “Yes?” Vlad couldn’t hide the large grin on his face.

     “I love your sense of humour. And although I only met you tonight, I wish you share more of your jokes with me.” 

     “Aww, you love my sense of humour? Alright, I have a joke right now.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Why did the banana go to the doctor?”

     “Why?”

     “Because it wasn’t _peeling_ well! Get it? Peeling!”

     For a moment the three of them just stared at Vlad, remaining dead quiet at his pun. But before they could start roasting him, Mira felt the laughter burst out from her. Covering her mouth, she kept laughing while Nik and Alina looked terribly confused.

     “I don’t get it. Do you get it?” Alina asked Nikolai.

     “I don’t get it.” Nikolai answered before looking back at Vlad in annoyance. “Your joke sucks.”

     “Hey! It doesn’t suck. Look at Katerina. She’s still laughing.” Vlad retorted, looking absolutely indignant.

     Finally the laughter died down from her. Grinning widely, she wiped the small tears at the corner of her eyes. “Vlad, that was really funny.”

     “Well at least someone here truly appreciates my wicked and superior sense of humor.”

     “Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, Vlad.” Nikolai said as he patted Vlad’s arm in a patronizing way.

     She laughed again at their brotherly antics when she felt it again. That sharp, peculiar feeling. Her laughter faltered but she tried her best to act nonchalant. Her eyes examined the crowd before her. Noticing nobody suspicious, she was about to look back at her group. That was when she saw him. She did a small double take at the sight of him watching her. He was standing right next to a marble column. The vertical structure cast shadows on his face, making his amethyst colored eyes gleam brighter as they stared at her. So cold and sinister. There was only one person in this world that possessed such eyes...

     Mira knew then that her mission was now standing on the edge of a knife. The moment she caught his gaze staring at her from across the ballroom, singling her out despite the sea of people between them, she knew. She felt her heart leap to her throat at the sight of those deep, violet eyes watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Such a perfectly exhibited poker face. _He knows._ A voice whispers at the back of her mind, causing a chill to run down her spine. Still, she can’t turn her back now.

     _Play the role. Act like you belong._ She repeated over and over again in her mind as she broke eye contact with the Russian, acting as if he was someone not worthy of her giving the time of the day. Still, she could feel Russia’s gaze glued to her form though she tried to stay calm and smart. One wrong move and she might as well kill herself. So she smiled. Like nothing was wrong and she was having a great time. This was all just a game. A game that could lead to her death.

     “Nik, I’m a little bit parched. Let’s go and get something to drink.” She said to him, standing at the tips of her toes just so she could whisper in his ear since the loud music and the lively chatter around them was making it hard for her words to be audible.

     “Don’t worry. I’ll fetch something for us. Just wait here.” He said as he kissed her forehead before making his way towards the table filled with food and drinks.

     Trying not to grimace at the physical display of affection, she gave him a grateful smile before turning her attention back to the crowd. While Nik was gone, she tried her best to remain poised and reserved. Straightening her spine and trying to release the tension from her shoulders. At the same time, she desperately listened for any sort of information. But still, none held great importance; just the usual gushes of well wishers and congratulations. She snorted in disgust, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. These people sure do love to kiss ass.

     It didn’t take long for Nik to come back with two crystal wineglasses in his hands, filled with sparkling champagne. She smiled brightly at his return.

     “Thank you, Nik.” She said as he handed her a glass.

     But before she could take a sip, a familiar voice called out from the crowd.

     “Nikolai, Vladimir.” 

     They all turned around to see Mikhail coming towards them.

     “Father,” Nik said as he lowered the wineglass he was holding.

     “Excuse me, ladies. May I borrow Nikolai and Vladimir for a moment?” Mikhail requested as he reached them.

     “Of course,” Alina and her both nodded their consent.

     “Come on, you two. There is someone I’d like you to meet.” Mikhail said as he started to steer them away. Nikolai glanced back at her mouthing something.

     She smiled in understanding. Giving a small nod, she watched as the three of them disappeared into the crowd.

     “Well, it seems like it’s just the two of us.” Alina spoke, already sounding bored.

     “Yeah.” She answered as she took a sip of her wine. From the corner of her eyes, she watched if the Russian was still there watching her. She was surprised to see that his spot by the column was now empty. She didn’t know if she should be terrified or relieved. If he was gone, that could only mean two things. She couldn’t stay here to find out. She needed to move now and fast. 

     Careful not to rouse suspicion, she turned to Alina while keeping a relaxed smile on her lips. “I need to use the powder room. Do you mind if I leave?”

     “No. Go ahead.” She said, waving a hand dismissively as she flashed her another one of her honeyed smiles.

     Without giving Alina a second glance, she made her way through the crowd, making sure to skirt between groups to lose any following eyes. She kept her senses about her, her body tensing and humming—already anticipating for a fight. She finally broke through from the sea of bodies only to find herself near a cluster of columns decorating a dim, empty space. It was the perfect place to lie low for a moment. The isolation of the place provided her with the silence to hear herself think.

     Before they left for the celebration, she had told Nikolai that she’d be leaving early from the celebration since her ‘Grandfather’ was home alone. It was a precautionary measure she made just in case she’d find herself in situations where she had to leave quickly. Situations just like this. If she could just find Nikolai, she could probably tell him that. But where was he? 

     Her eyes roamed the large expanse of the ballroom. He could be anywhere. Plus, she couldn’t stay in this hiding spot for too long. Someone was bound to find her and it would probably make them suspicious to see her here all alone. She debated if she should return to join the crowd. Her thoughts traveled to the worst case scenario she could think of. If they end up catching her out in the open, she had to bet on the possibility that they wouldn’t cause a scene. It would be scandalous to find that a spy could infiltrate their fortress. It would be a mighty blow to their pride. Then again, this was the Soviet Union. They love to show how much power they possessed by rubbing it on other people’s faces.

     Sighing through her nose, she made up her mind. She was about to step out to rejoin the party when an arm slithered around her shoulder, drawing her closer into a large body. 

     “What’s a beautiful girl like youuu doin’ in a place like thissss?” A voice whispers into her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin.

     Panic seized her and before she knew it, she pushed the stranger away not knowing the amount of strength she exerted. She watched with wide eyes as the man stumbled back, his body loosing balance. Clearly intoxicated with alcohol, he fell into the floor a cursing mess.

     “Shit! What the hell, womaaan?” he growled as he tried to pull himself back up.

     “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You scared me!” She said, trying to explain. But her words fell on deaf ears as he struggled to stand. She debated whether she should help him get back up. He looked so pathetic in his efforts. But then again, judging from her first impression of him, he seemed like the type that spelled trouble.

     Quickly making her decision, she decided to stay safe. Without another word she turned to leave when a hand suddenly clamped around her wrist in a vice grip. Spinning her around, she came face to face with the drunkard. His face leering and flushed red with intoxication. 

     “H-h-h-heeeeey! Wheeeere d'ya think yeeeeer goin’?” His breath washed over her, smelling thickly of alcohol and cigarettes.

     Her face scrunched up with disgust. “Sir, let me go.” She commanded, her tone nothing but assertive.

     “Nooooooooo! Not ‘til ya promise me a dance!”

     “No!” She snapped at him as she wrenched her wrist from him. She fixed him with a harsh glare as she started to storm away.

     “Don’t walk’way fwom me! Do ya even know who I am?! I am Stalin’s son!” He marched angrily after her, grabbing her by the shoulder. His arms immediately wrapped around her waist like a cage, forcing her body to press against his.

     “I don’t care who your father is! LET ME GO!” she demanded, trying to push his chest away. She debated if she should just knock him out or just plain fight him but they were so close to the ballroom. A scuffle could attract unwanted attention. And attention towards her was something she’d rather avoid at the moment.

     “C’me on! It’s only one daaance!”

     Like a taut rope that had been stretched too far, she felt her temper snap. She was just about to land a blow at the man’s face when a voice spoke from behind them.

     “She said she didn’t want to dance.” 

     Their eyes snapped towards the direction of the voice. Her eyes widened when she realized who it was. _Shit_. Standing before them was the man with the deep, violet eyes. The light from the ballroom caused his pale, wavy hair to shine like starlight. His eyes gleamed with amusement and danger as he beheld the other man’s arms around her waist. They watched transfixed as his lips slowly drew into a dangerous smirk, promising nothing but pain and violence. Silently, he took slow, threatening steps towards them.

     She could feel the other man start to tremble next to her. Glancing back at her captor, the man’s arms suddenly jolted back from her as if he was burned. She watched in shock as he stumbled back away from them, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear. She couldn’t believe what was happening. The Russian was the last person she had expected to come to anyone’s defense. 

     She glanced back at her savior who was now standing just a short distance from her. His smile was dark, and his eyes were filled with malice. “Should I tell your father to send you to the _gulag_? Maybe then you’d learn and understand the word ‘no’.”

     _Fuck._

     She watched in horror as he suddenly seized the younger man by the collar of his uniform. The man immediately started to stammer out an apology. 

     _Shit._ She needed to do something quick. 

     “That’s - I mean - that’s not necessary.” She spoke up, as she placed herself between the giant and the cowering man behind her.

      The Russian turned to look at her, his eyes cold with rage. His gaze pinned her to the spot. He was so much taller than her; he could probably break her with his hands. Still, she held his gaze. He could try to intimidate her all he wants, her courage would still rise tenfold.

     As if he could sense that she wasn’t going to back down easily, he cocked his head to the side. “You don’t think he deserves to be punished?” His voice was smooth and polished, yet his words contained enough bite. 

      _Well someone doesn’t like to have his authority challenged._

     “Oh I believe he has learned his lesson.” Turning back to the drunk behind her, she asked. “Don’t you?”

     She watched as he nodded vigorously. He was shaking so bad, she thought he’d be wetting his pants next. _So much for being Stalin’s son._ Turning to face the Russian again, she spoke. 

     “See?”

     He regarded her for a moment, his face unreadable. She kept her chin up, her eyes refusing to turn away. Finally his gaze transferred to the man behind her. 

     “Leave.” His tone was icy and forbidding.

     She listened to him scamper off, her gaze now fixed towards the golden buttons of the uniform of the country before her. Noticing how close their bodies were, she retreated a few steps back. She waited until her harasser was gone before she gazed back at her unlikely hero. He was already gazing down at her, his eyes half lidded as he studied her, a half smile playing on his lips. 

     “I believe this is the time you’re supposed to thank me.” 

     She felt herself bristle at his arrogance. “I didn’t need you to save me. I had everything under control.” She snapped at him, her temper getting the best of her.

     His brows arched up in disbelief, his smile widening. “You had everything under control?” As if to prove his point, his eyes traveled down her figure, studying her small and petite frame before finally settling back to her face. She could feel her brow twitched in irritation. Again, her anger threatened to explode at his condescension but she fought to keep it leashed this time.

     “I may not look like it but I do know how to take care of myself.” She said, giving him a pointed glare.

     “Do you now?” His voice was a lovely purr, snaking through her ears and causing shivers to run down her spine. 

     “So tell me then, what is a smart woman like you doing alone in a secluded area such as this?” He prowled closer, his voice turning deep and sensual. 

     Trying to calm her racing heart, she replied. “Why would you want to know?”

     “Nuh-uh,” He said in a sing-song voice while wagging a finger at her. “My question first.”

     She studied him for a moment before finally sighing in resignation. “I had to get away from the crowd. Your turn.”

     His smile grew at her answer. Straightening up, he answered with a shrug. “No reason.” _A lie for a lie._ She scowled at him. He only returned it with an amused smirk.

     Suddenly his attention was drawn back to the ballroom. Following his gaze, she saw nothing that could catch his attention. Only that couples were walking towards the dance floor. Another song was about to start. He turned back to face her, a crooked smile playing on his lips. 

     Lifting a hand, he offered it to her. “Shall we?” He asked, his lazy violet eyes crinkling at the corners.

     Raising a brow at his offered hand, she stared up at him incredulously. “Shall we what?”

     “Dance.” He answered as if it should be obvious.

     “Dance?” she repeated, looking at him as if he was the stupid one.

     She watched as he furrowed his brows at her. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

     “Yes.” Her answer was automatic. 

     He waited for her to continue, his forehead wrinkling in confusion

     “Why would I dance with you, I don’t even know you.” Lies, of course she knew. But he didn’t need to know that. 

     “Oh right. Forgive me, where are my manners? My name is Ivan Braginsky.” He said giving her a small bow. “And you are?”

     She was hesitant to give him her name. Then again, it would make her seem suspicious if she refused to give it to him when he was being so civil.

     “Katerina Navarrete Medina.” She finally answered.

     Something sparked inside those violet depths before it was gone in a flash. His smile turned crooked again as he offered her his hand once more.

     “Can I have this dance, Katerina?” His voice was a soft purr, the sound caressing every nerve in her body.

     Her heart immediately dropped into her stomach. Despite the fact this was very much useful to the mission, she was more than reluctant. It spelled too much of a trap to her.

     “I really shouldn’t. Someone’s waiting for me.” She explained, hoping he’d somehow back off.

     “Oh I’m sure they can wait a little longer.” His tone made it clear that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

     Her mind screamed at her to say no. But a small annoying part of her knew that whatever she decided to do, whether she’d say yes or no-- she’d still be digging her own grave. She had to face it. He had her backed into a corner. Nevertheless, if she did go down, she promised to give him hell first. 

     Finally managing a small nod, she placed her hand on his. Without another word, Ivan turned, leading her towards the dance floor. His grip on her hand was strong yet not too much that it caused her pain. The whole way, her stomach churned with anxiety. Finally they reached the middle of the dance floor. Turning to face her, he drew her close, pulling their bodies together. His grip on her waist was secure enough that it made it difficult for her to create some much needed space between them. The music dipped slow and intimate and they started to sway with the rhythm. 

     The entire time, he watched her with bedroom eyes, a lazy smile gracing his lips. She stared back at him, keeping a stoic mask on her face. If she turned away too fast, she’d be giving herself away. Finally, she lowered her gaze, trying to seem bored. From the corner of her eye, she watched him dip his head close to hers.

     “You know,” he murmured against her ear, making her shiver. “I’ve been watching you all night.”

     _Shit._ Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heart. Keeping her tone nonchalant, she replied. “Oh? I think I caught you once.” Furrowing her brows, she continued. “Is that a habit of yours? Stalking someone while you’re in the shadows?”

     She watched in satisfaction as he straightened up to his full height. Narrowing his eyes at her, he spoke, his voice low and terrifying. “I know you’re not who you say you are.”

     She felt her heart stop before it resumed its frantic beating. Her eyes hardened. “Do you now?” 

     “I’ve known the second you walked in.” He answered, giving her a predatory smile.

     _The bastard was playing her._ Her mind raced, searching for a solution. As if he could see the spinning gears of her mind, he interrupted her train of thought.

     “ _Relax._ I’m not going to do anything. _Not yet_ anyway.” He said, his smile turning menacing. “Tell me who you work for.” His tone dropped, turning dark and threatening. 

     She clenched her jaw tight, her eyes as sharp as daggers as she glared at him, refusing to submit. When it became clear that she wasn’t going to answer him, his eyes dangerously narrowed into slits. Anger and impatience starting to radiate off of him. 

     “We can do this the hard way or the easy way.” She felt his hand tighten around her waist. “Your choice, sweetheart.” 

     She felt the leash of her temper snap. “Do you really think your idle threats will work on me?” She couldn’t help the sardonic laugh from escaping out of her mouth. Sneering, she raised her chin up at him in defiance. 

     ”Go ahead. Show me what you got.” 

     For a second, his eyes widened with surprise before they glared back at her. Still, he kept his silence. 

     “What’s stopping you?” She knew that she shouldn’t provoke him but at that moment, she didn’t care. Once her anger was unleashed, nothing could stop her. It was her main driving force. 

     “Patience, _Katerina_.” He drawled out. “These floors are too nice and expensive for it to be stained by your blood and neither of us wants to cause a scene in the middle of a celebration.” 

     Like a light bulb flickering to life in her head, she was met with a crazy idea. She felt hesitant to proceed with it. It was risky, reckless, and dangerous. But at the moment, she had no choice. Suddenly, her ears picked up the sound of the music slowing down. The dance was about to end! She couldn’t stop the wicked smirk from spreading over her lips. 

     “I guess that’s where _you’re wrong_.” 

     She watched with smug satisfaction as his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, she wrenched herself away from him. As fast as lightning, she yanked the gun from its holster that was wrapped around her ankle. Aiming it at the large crystal chandelier above them, she pulled the trigger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The son of Joseph Stalin that appeared in this chapter is no other than Vasily Stalin. It was said that as a young man, he often used his name to further his career, to gain privileges, and to get women into his bed. Joseph Stalin abhorred this behavior.   
> For more info on him, check out this link: http://www.historyinanhour.com/2011/12/04/the-sad-lives-and-demise-of-stalin%E2%80%99s-sons/
> 
> 2) A gulag is a labor camp in the Soviet Union. It also refers to the government agency in charge of the Soviet forced labor camp system which reached its peak during Joseph Stalin's rule from the 1930s to the 1950s.


	3. The Chase

     _BANG!_ The sound of the gunshot exploded through the air, as thick and loud as thunder. After firing her gun, everything happened so fast. One short moment, the bullet zoomed through the air, piercing the shackle that was tethering the chandelier to the ceiling. With a loud groan, the heavy chandelier slowly came crashing towards the ground. She couldn’t remember when the music stopped or when it was replaced by the horrified screams of the people. All she knew was that she had to get away. So she threw her body as far as she could to escape the collapsing chandelier. In her haste, she pushed another couple away and into the ground. She tried to shield their bodies as much as she could from the incoming onslaught of crystal and metal shards.

     _BOOM!_ In a split second, the spot where she last stood was now occupied by the wreckage of the chandelier. With its demise, the ballroom’s main source of light also vanished. Only the small, orange lights from the lamps attached to the walls provided illumination. Still there weren’t many enough to keep the darkness from blanketing the entire space. 

     Panicked screams and shouts filled the ballroom, along with the sound of hundreds of people frantically running for safety. She had no time to lose. This was her chance. Russia was still somewhere out there. She had to escape now.

     Scrambling to her feet, she tried to remember where the exit was. With the chaos and no light to guide her way, she knew that she’d end up lost. 

     _There!_ Up ahead, a sliver of light glowed, indicating a lit corridor. Hitching her skirts up, she dashed towards it. As she neared the exit, the thicker the sea of people seemed to get. Good. If there was anyone following her, they’d end up losing her in the crowd.

     People pushed and prodded each other in their rush to get as much distance from the ballroom. She lost count of how many times she was elbowed and shoved. But full pandemonium exploded when they finally burst out into the open grounds of the Kremlin. People dashed towards their cars, tripping and shoving each other down the stairs. She froze in horror as her eyes took in the sight. Apprehension slammed into her as she finally realized the full scale of what she had done. Between the chaos and confusion, she felt someone yank her arm from behind. Her body tensed. Thinking that it was Russia and he had finally caught her, she twisted her body around ready to face him. She pulled back an arm to punch him but stopped herself short when she saw who it was.

     “Katerina!” Nikolai’s eyes were wild and frantic as he assessed her face, his hair looking disheveled. 

     “I’m glad you’re alright.” He said and with a sharp tug with his hand, he led her down the stairs. “Come this way!”

     He pulled her towards the direction of his car. With a quick yank, he opened the door for her. “GET IN!”

     She was only half listening when Nikolai yelled at the driver to start the engine. She was just about to enter when they heard a furious shout from behind them.

     “STOP!”

     She glanced back at the top of the stairs only to see the hulking figure of Russia, his eyes glowing bright with fury as he met her stare. Her heart stopped for a moment. Narrowing her eyes at him, she got into the car. Not wasting another moment, Nikolai followed close behind her. Slamming the door shut behind him. With her heart hammering inside her chest, she watched from her seat as Russia ran as fast as he could towards their direction.

     But it was already too late. The car lurched forward, racing away into the driveway. From behind them, she could hear Russia let out a curse. Before she could thank her stars, she watched another car pull up next to the nation. Opening the door, he quickly entered and without wasting another second, the car raced after theirs. Turning back to face the road, she saw other cars racing towards the closed gate.

     “LET US OUT!”

     “THERE HAS BEEN AN ATTACK! OPEN THE GATE!”

     The shouts of the people must have been desperate enough to persuade the stationed guard to open the huge iron gates. As soon as it opened wide enough for vehicles to pass, the cars immediately sped through.

     From behind them she could hear Russia bellow a command. 

     “NO! CLOSE THE GATES! DON’T LET THEM OUT!’

     Hearing his nation, the terrified guard was about to obey. He was about to pull the gate back close but stopped short when their car speeded through, followed by more vehicles. She twisted her body just in time to see Russia aim a gun at their car.

     _BANG!_ The first shot shattered the side mirror of the car. 

     “NIK GET DOWN!” she yelled as she quickly bent her head down behind the seat to avoid getting hit.

     _BANG! BANG! BANG!_ More bullets pierced through the panel of the car. She felt her body lurch in her seat as the car begun to weave dangerously, trying to avoid the onslaught of bullets. She righted herself back up, her eyes quickly scanning their surroundings. They were now entering a steel arch bridge directly at the western point of the Kremlin. Under it, the Moskva flowed dangerously. They were heading south then-- to Yakimanka District. Cars were dangerously whipping pass beside them, theirs headlights blinding and their tires screeching.

     “Katerina. What?” Hearing Nikolai’s horrified whisper, she turned back to face him.

     His eyes were wide with horror as he stared at the gun she was still holding in her hand. His face turned pale as he glanced back to her face, shock and realization creeping into his eyes before it quickly crumbled into betrayal then hurt. Her stomach plummeted at the torn look on his face. 

     “Nikolai...” She started to say, her eyes beseeching him even though she knew there was nothing she could say to get him to forgive her. 

     He continued to stare at her in silence, his eyes now burning dark with anger. He looked at her as if she was a monster.

     “I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke as she said the last word. And without saying anything more, she yanked the door open behind her, flinging her body into the concrete road.

     “Katerina!” She heard him scream out her name; screamed it out like he cared. That was the last thing she heard from him before her body slammed into the hard, concrete floor. The burst of pain lanced through her as her body continued to roll on the ground. But she forcibly shoved down the scream that was threatening to tear itself from her mouth. She needed to get away from the highway or else she’ll get hit. She pushed her hands against the ground while trying to keep her torso raised, striving to force her body to slow down and stop rolling. Finally, her efforts succeeded but at a cost. She blinked her eyes sluggishly as black spots danced around her vision. Around her, headlights flashed and car horns blared, reminding her that she was still in the middle of a treacherous highway with speeding cars. She gave her head a quick shake, trying to dislodge the dizziness threatening to overwhelm her. Her body felt battered and heavy and her stomach was twisting with queasiness.

     Suddenly, a car stopped just a short distance from her, its tires letting out a loud screech. Its headlights blinded her for a moment. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, she squinted. Her ears picked up the sound of a door opening then slamming shut. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the massive, hulking figure of Russia, standing just a few feet away. Alarm bells started to ring inside her head. Staggering to her feet, she raced as fast as she could towards the nearest barrier of the bridge; the whole time ignoring the screaming protests of her body. She had probably sustained a good number of bruises and scratches all over her skin. She prayed that was all there is to it. From behind her, she heard Russia bark out a curse before darting after her. 

     She ran like hell while trying to avoid the speeding cars. She didn’t have to look behind her shoulder to see if he was still pursuing her. She could hear the sound of car horns honking and drivers yelling curses behind her, signalling that Russia was also having the trouble of catching up to her. She almost smiled at the thought. At least the approaching cars helped in slowing down the nation chasing her. 

     Her bare feet slammed against the cement of the bridge. She felt the rough surface rub against her soles, stinging her after every step. Her once sleek hairdo had now become disarrayed; some of the thick strands had come undone from the bun. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest and her lungs burned as she gasped for air. 

     _Just a little bit more..._ She thought pushing her body to move faster as she neared the barrier. She almost let out a sob of happiness as she reached the concrete fence that stood almost to the height of her chest. 

     Stealing a quick glance back at Russia, she surmised that he was probably about three feet away from her. She didn’t have much time. Gritting her teeth, she scrambled frantically up the fence, pulling her body into a stand. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes met his. He was almost upon her now. Time seemed to slow down as they stared at each other. She knew it was probably just a second, perhaps even less but something seem to have struck a nerve on the Russian. Whatever he saw in her face, it hit him hard. His eyes widened, as if realizing what she was about to do. He reached out a hand to grab her but she was already falling over.

     His ensuing shout was the last thing she heard before she crashed feet first into the cold, dark waters of the Moskva.

 

     She felt like she was in a dream. Her body felt heavy and sluggish. She tried moving her limbs but soon realized that she was too exhausted to move. Around her, the water roared, silencing any other sound. She knew she was slowly sinking, her body being swept away by the strong current. 

     Slowly, she opened her eyes only to see darkness fill her vision. She tried turning her head from side to side but it was too dim to see anything. She felt cold to her core and suddenly, she remembered that it had rained earlier during the day. Even if summer was in full bloom in Moscow, the water at night was still unforgivably cold. She gazed up, trying to find a light. She didn’t know how deep she went. Slowly, she tested her limbs again, just slow, gentle treading in the water. Her limbs finally obeyed. Satisfied to see that they were now functional, she started to create mild, gentle strokes with her arms and legs, so as not to disturb the water too much and to conserve her strength. There was a strong chance they were still hunting her. 

     The water rippled around her outstretched hands, caressing her body. Her hair billowed around her, and so did her dress but she paid them no heed. She knew she was bound to resurface sometime soon to get her fill of much needed oxygen but first, she needed to get as much distance as she could from this place. 

 

     She lost track of how much time passed but her lungs were starting to burn. And so were the muscles on her limbs. She quickly resurfaced, but made sure to keep only her face above the water. Gasping for air, she opened her eyes to see that it was starting to drizzle. Listening for any signs of people, her ears picked none. Just to be cautious, she sunk back half of her head down into the water. Only her eyes and nose remained above the water’s surface. She silently scanned her surroundings, trying to look for clues of her current location. There was another bridge stretching over the river before her. She couldn’t see any sign of her pursuers nor could she see the bridge where she jumped from. Her eyes studied the buildings right next to the river, and saw that all the windows were drawn close. Not surprising, seeing that it was probably around midnight now. She sighed with relief. Turning her body around, she noticed the large, imposing, white structure of the Kremlin from a distance. 

     Not that far, then. She knew where she was. The bridge connected the Red Square to another street. She decided to keep swimming downstream. Someone would be waiting for her at their agreed rendezvous point. Taking a large gulp of air, she ducked back under the freezing waters of the Moskva, keeping her strokes steady but slow as to not alert anyone of her location.

     From time to time, she would resurface breathing for air and to check her location. She was getting closer. She could already see another bridge dawning from the distance. It was the place where they had agreed to meet. Good, for the current was getting stronger and her muscles were burning from too much exertion. _You can do this, Mir. Just a little bit farther._

  


     She dragged her body to the embankment, shivering badly from the cold. Her dress and hair didn’t help at all as they stuck to her skin, dripping wet. Strong, wrinkled hands suddenly took hold of her shoulders, lifting her into a sitting position.

     “Miss Mira! What happened?” a worried voice cried out in alarm.

     She blinked her eyes tiredly before they adjusted into focus. A man whose face was aged with time stared at her with concern in his blue eyes. She breathed heavily, her body wracking with tremors from the bitter cold.

     “D-doc...” She whispered, her voice faint as she tried to keep her eyes open.

     “Shush, Miss. Please save your strength,” he said, cradling her drenched self close to his body. “Maria!” he called out to someone she couldn’t see.

     A few seconds later, she heard someone run towards them. “Abuelo, I thought you said to wait—Dios mio!” a woman’s voice cried out in horror at the sight of her, so limp in the older man’s arms.

     “Maria, quick! Help me get her into the car! We have to leave now!” He said as he pushed himself up to a stand.

     Quick to follow the older man’s command, the woman shrugged off her coat, wrapping it around the shivering form of the nation. As fast as they could, they rushed into the waiting car parked near the embankment of the river. The whole way, Mira shut her eyes too exhausted to keep them open.

     “Ilya, get the engine started!” Mateo barked the order at another man.

     She listened as they opened the car door for her, followed by the sound of the engine roaring to life. Gently, they placed her on the backseat of the car. She didn’t even stir. She continued to listen as Doctor Medina and his granddaughter entered the car. She felt the seat next to her dip, signalling that someone was seated next to her. She deduced that it was Maria. Not long after they had themselves settled in, she felt the car slowly make its way back into the road.

     “Abuelo, where will we go now?” Maria asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she lowered Mira’s limp head into her lap, ignoring how the nation’s hair was soaking her clothes. Mira had to give it to the girl for trying to remain calm though she had every right to be worried. They were virtually surrounded by the fifteen countries of the Soviet Union. And all fifteen had heavily guarded borders and very strict travel policies. Anyone found trying to escape may as well kill themselves first before they got caught. Getting out would be a feat only heaven can pull.

     “To Estonia. From there, I’m not sure.” Mateo answered honestly from his seat next to the driver. “How is she doing?” She heard him ask, his seat groaning as he turned to take a look at her.

     Before Maria could answer, Mira forced her body up into a sitting position. This was met by disapproving cries from the trio.

     “I’m fine, just tired.” Mira forced herself to speak, too tired to make her voice louder.

     She continued to feel their gazes on her, but she ignored the concern in their eyes. She had to prioritize their lives first.

     “We will proceed with Plan B. We cannot use the rail transit system. It’ll be watched too heavily.”

     The three remained quiet which was truly a blessing. It was getting harder and harder for her to find the energy to speak. “Ilya, after you drop us at the next station, I want you to go back to the capital. Get Gavriil and dump the dummy somewhere in the Southern districts, make sure to plant the body by the river.” She took a few seconds to rest before continuing. “After that, you and your brother lay low for a while. But don’t get out of the city unless things calm down. Moving away after tonight will attract too much attention.”

     “Yes, Miss.” Ilya answered seriously, his grey eyes studying her from the rear view mirror before they went back to watching the road.

     “Maria, I need those scissors and the change of clothes I asked you to bring.”

     “Yes, Miss Mir.” Maria immediately bustled herself with the order, searching through the bag placed right next to her feet.

     “Doctor, the syringe, please.”

     He only nodded, his eyes looking grim as he reached into his satchel, bringing out a syringe and a small bottle filled with clear liquid. She watched as he filled the syringe with the fluid from the bottle before handing the syringe to her, along with a ball of cotton soaked with antiseptic. She silently rubbed the cotton between the skin of her shoulder and elbow. Taking the syringe in her hand, she inserted the needle into her skin. Pushing the plunger of the syringe down, she watched as the fluid slowly drained from the syringe. She waited a few seconds before she finally removed the needle from her skin. Taking the gauze already at hand from Mateo, she lightly pressed in into her skin to stop the minor bleeding from the puncture wound.

     She sighed as she leaned against the seat of the car. Outside, thunder clapped and the sky flashed with lightning. A few seconds later, rain started to pour down in torrents. She prayed it was enough to slow down the Soviet soldiers in their manhunt for her.

     “Do you have all the needed documents?” she finally asked towards the doctor, referring to their fake passports and travel visas.

     “Yes. Here’s yours.” He said as he handed the items to her.

     “Thank you.” She said before placing them a safe distance from her.

     "Maria, the scissors.” She said, placing her outstretched palm out next to the young woman.

     “Please let me.” The girl replied, eager to help.

     She studied the other girl for a while before she nodded. “All right.” She silently turned her back

     Maria deftly gathered her hair with one hand. And with the other holding the scissors, she started snipping at the strands. She lost herself to the sound of the rain and the snip-snap of the scissors. But she couldn’t relax yet. Getting out of Moscow would be difficult but if they played their cards right, she was sure they’d be able to leave the capital in one piece. She prayed that the rain would last at least the entire night, hopefully longer. 

     “Done.” Maria’s voice drew her out of her contemplation.

     Reaching out a hand, she touched the short, wet strands. Her once long, luscious mane was now reduced into a bob, cut close to her head. A distant memory suddenly flashed inside her mind’s eye. The glint of something wickedly sharp in that man’s hand. Him yanking her hair so hard it brought tears to her eyes. His deranged shout of laughter as he drove the scissors into her hair, snipping off the thick strands while the blade sliced through her skin. She felt her body stiffen in terror at the memory. 

    _It’s not real. It’s over. You’re safe. You’re safe._ She repeated the words over and over trying to calm her frightened heart. 

     “Is it fine?” Maria asked, her big blue eyes looking nervous at her lack of comment.

     "It’s fine.” She answered with a clipped tone, her voice hoarse.

     She watched as Maria smiled widely at her answer. “Here are your clothes,” she said as she handed them to her.

     She silently took them, keeping her eyes downcast the entire time. Never again would she let that happen. She’d rather destroy herself first before she submitted to anyone.

  


     They drove on silently through the night without any disturbance. It was surprising but then again, the rain had escalated into a full-out storm. Only the desperate would be out in this weather, and they were surely that. She didn’t know if they were still searching for her. Out in a weather like this, it’d be detrimental than productive.

     It was already an hour past midnight and yet she couldn’t sleep. Though she was tired, she had too much on her mind. Beside her, Maria was already sound asleep, and so was Mateo. Only Ilya and she kept each other company. Though she knew she made a lousy one. She hardly said anything to him throughout the drive. She wasn’t in the mood nor did she have the energy to make idle chatter. It didn’t seem to bother the silent, young man at all. His eyes were focused on the road, trying to manoeuvre their way safely in this storm.

     She quietly shifted in her seat, trying to find a position she was comfortable in. Due to the liquid injected into her system, her skin had broken up with angry, red rashes. It was their alibi for getting out of the country. Her cover was that she was a dying girl who had come to the capital seeking for medical intervention but was turned away due to her _‘contagious’_ disease. In truth, her _“sickness”_ wasn’t contagious at all—just an allergic reaction. In five hours, the rashes fade away and she was back to her healthy self. She had to inject herself every five hours to maintain their cover. Maria was her nurse and the Mateo was her kind uncle who had accompanied his sick niece. She wasn’t sure if they could pull it off. She hoped that the authorities on the border checkpoints would let them out of the country in fear of the disease spreading into their lands.

     She was pulled out of her thoughts when the car started to slow down, pulling into a small driveway right next to a wooden cabin. Seems like they had arrived. She straightened herself up in her seat. Next to her, Maria started to stir. Blinking, she opened her eyes drowsily.

     “Where are we?” She asked, her voice still heavy with sleep.

     “We’re in the outskirts of the Klinsky District. Close to the border between Moscow and Kalinin.” Her grandfather replied, already fully awake.

     The car finally stopped. Turning off the engine, Ilya took an umbrella from the compartment before heading his way out. Running towards the cabin, he knocked on the door. The door opened to let a man in his forties out, carrying a gun and a lantern. He studied Ilya for a moment, before his gaze transferred towards their direction. He spoke something to Ilya, something Mira couldn’t perceive due to the rain and the darkness. Ilya replied calmly, gazing back at them. Taking a shawl, Mira wrapped it around her head, before taking the umbrella settled on the floor next to her feet.

     “Wait here.” She said to the two before she exited the car. Slamming the door as quiet as she could behind her, she started making her way towards the cabin. The rain made pitter-patter sounds on the umbrella but she paid it no attention. Finally, she arrived at the small, wooden porch of the cabin. Lowering the umbrella before closing it, she met the silent gaze of the other man as he studied her. 

     “Mr. Breznevh, I hope you still remember me?” She said with a smile at the man.

     “Miss Mir, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He said, giving her a small bow with his head. “I take it since you’re here, the mission is finished?”

     “Unfortunately, we had to withdraw before I could complete the mission. They somehow knew I was a spy.” She explained, watching his eyes harden.

     “Then we have to get you out of Moscow immediately.” He said, his tone nothing but urgent.

     “We have to wait until early morning.” She spoke, her voice remaining calm. “It’ll be too suspicious if we go at the checkpoint at such an ungodly hour.”

     She watched as Breznevh nodded, his eyes crinkling with concentration. “I have a hidden bunker at the woods. You’ll be safe there.”

     She nodded. “Thank you. We’ll leave at first light.”

     Turning around she made her way back to the car, Ilya not far behind. Opening the door for Maria, she gestured for her to get out of the car. Silently, Maria stepped out, her arms loaded with their things. Mira silently took some of her load off her arm while she shielded the two of them from the rain. They slowly made their way back under the cover of the cabin, following Ilya and the Doctor. Turning around, she slowly made her way to Ilya. 

     Handing him the gown, she spoke. “Remember what I told you. Dress the body with this. Hopefully it will draw the attention away from us.”

     “Yes, Miss.” He nodded seriously. “Good luck.” He added with a soft voice.

     “Good luck.” She replied, matching his tone.

     Ilya nodded at each of them in farewell before making his way back into the car. Starting the engine, the car roared to life, its headlights blinding them for a moment. It slowly backed up into a corner before it headed back into the road.

  


     True as she had promised, they left at first light. Breznevh took the role as their driver as they made their way into the first checkpoint at the border between Moscow and Kalinin, the next city over. She had already taken her shot, her skin breaking out with the scarlet rashes. She had on a small mask to look like the sick patient that she was. Paired with her pale pallor and the dark circles under her eyes, she probably resembled the living dead.

     As they neared the checkpoint, the feeling of dread and tension started to settle in. Her hands had turned cold and clammy but she tried to hold on to the semblance of calm. If she panicked, others would do so too and that was the last thing she needed. She turned her gaze towards the others. Maria was staring out into the window, biting her lips as her eyes darted quickly from side to side. Mira then turned her attention towards Mateo and Breznevh. She couldn’t see their faces but judging from their tense postures and Breznevh clutching the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white, she’s say they were on the same boat.

     She sighed, removing the mask covering the lower half of her face before speaking. “If you are frightened, I won’t hold it against you if you leave. This journey will be nothing but dangerous and full of uncertainty. I promise to the best of my abilities to keep you all safe, but even then-- I can’t assure you if my efforts will be enough. But if you choose to leave, I won’t be able to protect you anymore and I don’t know what they’ll do to you if you’re caught.”

     Silence hung like a heavy cloud over them upon hearing her words. Mira wondered if she was too harsh with her words but she believed that they should know what they were up against. With her, they had a small chance of leaving the Soviet Union in one piece. Out there, with the red army, the secret police, and the people who were willing to throw others under the bus just to get their hands on some money-- they didn’t stand a chance.

     Slowly, she felt someone grasp her hand before squeezing it gently. Turning her gaze to her side, she watched as Maria gave her a reassuring smile. “We won’t leave you. We’re in this together.”

     Mira felt her eyes widen in shock. Some part of her believed that they would actually leave.

     “My granddaughter’s right.” Upon hearing Mateo’s voice, she shifted her gaze to meet his. “We’re not leaving you to do this alone.”

     “Yeah!” Breznevh chipped in from his seat. “Besides what’s life without a little bit of danger?” he smirked at her from the rear view mirror. 

     She was astounded by their unwavering courage and loyalty. Crazy they all were but stubborn to a fault. She couldn’t help but smile at their antics. “All right then. You better get your A game because this show’s about to get started.”

  


     They finally arrived at the checkpoint area with the rain finally dissipating. Still the sky retained its grey, cloudy ceiling. From where she was slumped against her seat, she could see at least six guards, maybe even more. From up ahead, she watched as one of the guards made a stop sign with his hand. Following his order, Breznevh pulled on the brakes.

     They watched silently, their hearts beating hard as the guard approached their car. Leaning his elbow on the panel, he studied their group for a moment before speaking. “Passports and identifications?”

     She stirred in her seat, watching tiredly as Maria handed her passport and identification for her.

     “Where are you going?” the guard asked as he studied their travel documents.

     “Home. I’m taking my niece back to Estonia.” Mateo explained, as he turned to glance at her with concern before turning back to face the guard.

     Feeling the guard’s gaze on her, she tried to return it as she blinked her tired eyes at him. She watched as he narrowed his eyes at the sight of her. 

     “What’s wrong with your niece?” he asked, looking back at Mateo with a frown.

     “Oh Sir, about that, may I speak to you privately for a moment?” Mateo asked, politeness and concern etched into his face and voice. Mira had to hand it to him, the doctor had amazing acting skills.

     The guard watched him for a moment before nodding. Quickly, Mateo stepped out of the car before making his way towards the guard. They stepped a good measure away from the vehicle, their voices turning hushed. From her seat, Mira kept her sick patient farce going. Shivering her body every now and then, while wrinkling her eyes shut from the pain and discomfort, she kept her other senses sharp.

     A moment later, she heard footsteps crunching towards the vehicle. She opened her eyes a little as she watched the guard approached followed by Mateo. 

     “Everyone, I need you to step out of the car. We’ll have to do a personal inspection.”

     They silently obeyed though Mir remained inside, waiting for Breznevh to pick her up since she was too _‘weak and sickly’_ to move. One by one, they were searched including the vehicle and their possessions. But Mira noticed that when they tried to inspect her, they kept their distance and tried to touch her as little as possible. Inwardly, she smirked at their cautiousness.

     “What’s this?” a voice called out from one of the soldiers searching the vehicle. 

     At his question, she felt her heart skip a beat. Had they left some incriminating evidence? She was sure they had everything checked before leaving. Slowly, they turned their heads, studying the medicine bottles and the syringe the soldier held in his hands.

     Mateo quickly stepped in, speaking out. “That’s my niece’s medicine, Sir.”

     They let out the breaths they were holding, trying not to act relieved.

     The guard studied the medicine for a moment before finally nodding. “All right, you’re all clear.” The guard said, as he placed the objects back into the satchel.

     They were just making their way back into the car when a soldier came running towards them. 

     “Sir!” 

     “What is it?” The first guard snapped, not bothering to hide his irritation.

     “Urgent news from the capital! They issued an order to close all borders. No one is allowed to leave the country!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Soviet Union had very strict emigration and immigration policies. 
> 
> If you were a foreigner entering to live in the country, people from the Secret Police were known to monitor your movements. Citizens were also encouraged to report to the authorities if they had contact with you or saw anything suspicious about you. Aside from that, each citizen must have an internal passport (used for moving from place to place inside Russia) and an international passport (used for traveling to other countries). 
> 
> In some ways, moving to Russia was easier than leaving the country. It was considered treason to attempt to leave. The borders were heavily guarded by the Soviet border troops. If you do attempt to escape but end up getting caught and somehow they didn't shoot you on the spot, you'll find yourself stuck inside a prison camp probably dying from starvation, torture, disease, or being worked to death. Still many people chose to defect and barely escaped with their lives. One notable person is Stanislav Kurilov who jumped from a cruise liner into the open ocean and swam all the way to the Philippine Coast many kilometers away. The danger doesn't end there for some since some people who chose to defect became KGB and NKVD targets and end up getting assassinated. Another man with his six year old son escaped Siberia on a small boat and crossed the Bering Strait. They were assisted by Eskimos of Savoonga and Gambell on St. Lawrence Island. Shortly afterward 14 Siberians arrived for "a visit" and questioned inhabitants whether they had seen a "white Russian." Lastly, Svetlana Alliluyeva, daughter of Joseph Stalin himself defected to the US.


	4. The Forest Brothers

    

     They all froze upon hearing the words from the Russian border guard. If they couldn’t leave, it was only a matter of time before those at the capital caught up to them. They watched with bated breath as the Officer narrowed his eyes at his subordinate.

     “What else did they say?” he asked, walking closer to the soldier. 

     Mira strained to hear what else was exchanged between the two but found it difficult as their conversation turned hushed. She and the others watched anxiously as the two soldiers’ stances turned tenser and their whispers turning more urgent and animated with time. There was a huge chance that they won’t be able to leave now. Gritting her teeth, she resolved to their backup plan and started to bite the insides of her mouth, ignoring the sharp stab of pain. She bit hard enough to draw blood, the taste of iron coating her tongue. _Still not enough_. She bit harder, shutting her eyes close for a moment from the pain. 

     Finally, the Officer turned towards them an apologetic look on his face. “Bad news, fellows. I can’t let you pass through the border.” 

     Mira forced herself to remain calm. There was still a chance they didn’t know who they really were. After all, their travel papers and identifications though fake looked very real and convincing. She had men on the inside of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the passport offices to thank for that. 

     “Sir, please. My niece—I have to take her home.” Mateo pleaded, stepping up next to the soldier. 

     “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.” The Officer said looking sincerely apologetic at them. 

     That was her cue. From where she was in Breznevh’s arms, she bent over as if being punched, her body wracking with painful coughs. She covered her mouth as she tried to gasp for breath. Next to her, Maria acting the role as her dutiful nurse started to fuss over her. Mira closed her eyes tight, forcing tears to start leaking from the corner of her eyes. 

     “Uncle, help.” She let out the pathetic cry, opening her eyes to stare at him. 

     She watched as Mateo turned back to the Officer in charge, his face full of pain. “Please! I promised her parents I would bring her home. Have some pity on the poor girl!” 

     She willed herself to cry pitifully as she felt the soldiers gaze on her. Judging from their shocked gazes, she was sure they noticed the red stain marking the mask on her face. 

     “I want to go home. “ She mourned out the words in a whisper as sobs wracked her body. “Please let me go home.” 

     Right next to her, Maria was also sobbing silently, whispering words of comfort to her as she removed the mask from her face to wipe off the blood on her chin. 

     Mira closed her eyes tight. She wasn’t sure if there act would work so she poured out her heart and soul to make it all look believable. She promised she would do her best to protect them, to get her people out alive. She will not fail them. 

     Finally the Officer’s voice cut through the air. “Ruslan, get the stamp.” 

     Mira sniffed as she finally opened her eyes to see the Officer look at her with sad eyes. 

     “But Sir!” The younger soldier protested. 

     “Just get the stamp, Ruslan! Or are you that heartless to let this girl die on foreign soil?” The Officer snapped at him. 

     She couldn’t see Ruslan’s face but judging from his red tipped ears, she knew he was mortified. She watched as he finally nodded in submission before heading towards the small guard house at the other side of the car. Not long afterwards, he came back holding a rubber stamp and an ink pad in his hands. Silently, he gave the stamp to the Officer who proceeded to stamp their internal passports, stopping from time to time to tap the stamp over the ink pad. Finally, he strolled towards us, his face was grave as he handed us our passports. 

     “You may pass.” His voice was soft as he gazed at her with sad eyes before he turned towards his men. “Let them through!” 

     Upon hearing the command, the soldier operating the boom gate raised the barrier, waiting for their car to pass through. 

     They turned back to look at the Officer as Mateo thanked him vigorously. They all added their words of thanks. He only nodded at them in silence, watching as they turned towards their car. Only after they all entered the vehicle and they swept pass under the barrier and the guardhouse vanished from sight did they all let out sighs of relief. 

  
  
    

     Due to Russia’s vast size, terrain and harsh climate, the road network wasn’t evenly distributed throughout the country. The closest major road to Estonia from Moscow was the one connecting Moscow to Leningrad. So they continued on with their journey, heading northwest. From there, they weren’t sure what to do next. If all borders were closed, then running away from Moscow would be useless if they couldn’t get out of the country. They wouldn’t count on the small miracle that took place back at Moscow to happen again. Mira knew that they will have to resort to smuggling themselves out of the country. But with the border troops always patrolling the boundaries, she wasn’t sure how. She had to figure out a way fast. 

     They drove on for hours, only stopping by towns to get supplies and to relieve themselves. They ate on the road since they didn’t trust staying in towns for too long. Too many eyes watching, suspicious at travelers and eager to whisper back to the secret police. 

     They left Moscow early in the day and they had been on the road for six hours now. Mira could feel her body ache from inactivity but she was too tensed about their situation to complain. Her body had fully recovered from all the bruises and scratches that happened back at Moscow. That was one of the upsides of being a country. Superficial wounds like that tend to heal at a nick of time. She was lucky those were the only damages she took. Anything more serious and she’d be in trouble. Besides, she would gladly bear the soreness of her derriere if the alternative would be delaying their journey, resulting to capture by the Soviet Union. Finally, it was about an hour past noon when they sighted the colorful onion-shaped domes of the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood from the distance. Leningrad at last. 

     They stopped on the outskirts, under the cover of the trees. From there, they studied the city. The place was crawling with soldiers from the Red Army. Judging from the tense atmosphere, they immediately thought something was off. Breznevh immediately volunteered to scout the place. Being half-Russian, he had more chances of mingling with the people compared to the three foreigners at his side. They stayed behind, waiting by the car. It had only been fifteen minutes before Breznevh finally came back. 

     “I don’t think we should enter the city.” Breznevh spoke as he settled himself behind the wheel. “I heard that the resistance is acting up again. They sent those troops here for security measures.” 

     “Resistance? What resistance?” Maria asked, looking worried. 

     “His talking about the guerrilla warfare happening in the Baltic States right now.” Mira answered, her tone contemplative. “What other news, Breznevh?” 

     “I heard whispers that the Forest Brothers have taken some of the borders on some of the counties of Estonia.” 

     She paused, turning the information over and over in her head. “Where are they most active?” she asked. 

     “Võrumaa. But they said that they are active in Tartu and Viru Counties as well. But they said there are many more.” 

     Mira kept silent as her mind submerged into deep thought at this information. Viru County was too close to Estonia’s capital and she was sure the Red Army had a stronghold there. Then again Viru was the closest to Leningrad among the three. 

“Is there another road to Estonia that connects to the main road of Leningrad to Tallinn without having to enter the city?” she asked. 

     “There is. I know a small one that is less used. It leads to the road that connects to Viru County to Leningrad.” 

     “We’ll take that road.” She responded as she leaned back into her seat. 

  
  
    

     They were back on the road, heading southwest from Leningrad. They finally arrived at Kingisepp, a small town near the international borders between Estonia and Russia, at least twenty miles east from the Estonian city of Narva. Parking their car outside an inn, they waited in their seats as Breznevh entered the small establishment. A few minutes later, he exited and entered the car. Starting the engine, they directed the car in an isolated part of the town. After parking, Breznevh turned towards them, a serious look on his face. 

     “There’s a Soviet truck filled with supplies that’s heading to Tallinn. They’ll enter Kingisepp by four to rest for a bit before continuing on. We’ll have to sneak into the vehicle.” 

     “How? When they do the inspection—“ Maria questioned. Judging by the slight quiver in the young girl’s voice, Mira knew Maria was trying hard not to panic. 

     “We’ll figure something out.” Mira said with a soothing tone, squeezing the hand of the frightened girl to comfort her. She watched as Maria nodded, gulping down her fear. It seems that the closer they were to the international boundary between the two countries, the jumpier she seemed to get. Mira didn’t blame the poor girl. Apprehension was also weighing itself on her shoulders. This was their most dangerous make or break stage yet. 

     Exiting the car, they made their way into a deserted alley just as the supply truck entered into the town before stopping by the inn. From where she was hidden, Mira counted the number of guards. At least twenty men protected the truck. Two soldiers on the inside, one acting as the driver, the other was seated on the front passenger seat next to the driver; the rest were surrounding the vehicle, walking on foot and armed with rifles. They watched as some of the soldiers entered the inn while half stayed to guard the truck. Mira pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed. This wasn’t possible. If she was alone maybe but with three other people, the stakes were against them. They had to find another way to cross the border. Turning towards her group, she spoke her voice grim. 

     “There are twenty soldiers guarding the truck. We need to find another way in.” 

     They remained quiet for a moment, trying to come up with a plan. Suddenly, their concentration was abruptly shattered by a shout from the distance. They quickly peered around the corner of the alley to see a large group amassing near the truck. Shouts were exchanged between the civilians and the soldiers. This was their chance. She turned to look at her group. 

     “That’s our chance—we’re sneaking in. At my signal, you run towards the truck.” She watched as they all nodded. “Come then,” She said before she started walking towards the direction of the commotion. People were screaming all around her as she wove through the crowd. With her small stature, she was sure nobody would be watching her. Satisfied that she was in, she glanced at Maria before holding her hand. Reaching inside her coat, she drew out a thick wad of Soviet ruble before throwing it up high in the air. Like blood in the water attracting piranhas into frenzy, the crowd went wild, pushing and shoving each other in the process. Mira immediately dropped to the ground, crawling between the legs of the people going crazy for the money. The soldiers tried to contain the commotion, yelling for order as they pushed the people to stay back. But it was no use. It was utter chaos. Standing to her full height as they finally got through the crowd; Mira quickly stole a short glance behind her to see if anybody was watching them. Satisfied that no one was watching, too engrossed with the money and the chaos, she climbed up towards the back of the truck. After she got in, she held out a hand towards Maria to help her get in. Mateo and Breznevh were already in the truck pulling them behind a stack of crates covered with tarp. Hiding, they waited for the chaos to subside. Finally, the soldiers cleared the area surrounding the truck. With a thump on the truck’s side, the truck’s engine roared to life before lurching forward. 

     “What are we going to do once they do the inspection?” Maria whispered to her ear. 

     “We hide under the tarp. Insert ourselves between the crates. Find a better hiding place than the one were in right now.” She whispered back. “Hopefully they won’t do a thorough inspection. It’s already late in the afternoon. I don’t think they would dawdle with the inspection if these supplies are to reach Tallinn before late in the evening. And with the rebels controlling the forests and the countryside...” 

     “They can’t afford to be out in the open late at night.” Mateo surmised beside her. 

     Mira nodded at him in agreement. “Find a place to hide yourselves. Somewhere far back they won’t think of inspecting.” 

     She watched as they all nodded before scattering, trying to locate a decent hiding spot. Careful not to be seen by the guards outside, she grabbed Maria’s hand in hers, pulling her into a corner, between large stacks of boxes. Pulling the tarp up, she ushered the younger girl inside, before following after her. They huddled close to each other, their breaths sounding loud under the cover of the tarp. 

     It didn’t even take an hour for them to reach the guard post for the border inspection. She felt the car lurch into a stop. Straining her ears, she listened as orders were barked amongst the border troops. Right next to her, she felt Maria stiffen, muttering prayers so fast they were incoherent to Mira’s ears. Suddenly, they heard a thud from inside the truck followed by footsteps and the crinkling of the tarp as it was moved. This caused Maria to cease her prayers. Mira felt her eyes harden. They were inspecting the truck. Holding her breath, she squeezed Maria’s hand, a signal for her to remain quiet. The footsteps grew louder, drawing close. They tried their best to remain still. If they were caught, there was no room for escape. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped right next to where they were hidden. Right next to her, Maria covered her mouth with her hand, trying to smother any sound that might come out. Their heartbeats pounded so loud in their ears they were afraid it would give them away. They waited with bated breaths as the soldier finally spoke. 

     “All clear!” And with that, they listened as he turned back the way he came from. 

     Letting out the breaths they were holding, Mira could hardly believe that they did it. Relief mixed with disbelief flooded her emotions. Feeling Maria squeeze her hand in happiness, she returned the gesture, her lips stretching into a smile. 

     With a jolt, they felt the truck advance. Finally, Estonia. She could feel hope starting to bloom inside her chest. They could make it. She just needed to find the local American counter intelligence unit in the area. Finding them wouldn’t be an easy feat but she could manage. It’ll take some time, no doubt about that but if she couldn’t find them, they were bound to find her first. 

     Twenty minutes passed-- probably more, she wasn’t sure. The road had gone rock-strewn, making the ride bumpy. Even so, she knew her body was exhausted. The long drive and the strain were starting to take its toll on her. Her eyelids felt heavy, craving for much needed rest. Next to her, Maria was no better; her head was nodding back and forth, sleep slowly winning her over. Taking pity on the poor girl, Mira wrapped an arm around Maria, resting her head upon her shoulder. 

     They hadn’t gone far from the border but dusk was starting to creep in. Even under the cover of the tarp, she could hear the sound of crickets and other nocturnal creatures. It was getting darker too. Thinking it was safe to rest her tired eyes for a minute, she closed them only for a moment when she felt the car stop. Snapping her eyes open, she listened attentively as the soldiers exchanged shouts. It seems a fallen tree was blocking the path. Suddenly, everything went quiet and still, like the calm before the storm. She strained her ears, waiting in anticipation. Suddenly a shout rang out sharp through the air. 

     “IT’S AN AMBUSH!” 

     Not long after the warning was delivered, shouts and gunshots filled the air. Beside her, Maria jolted awake. “What’s happening?!” She asked in alarm. 

     Mira quickly shushed her, not wanting to alert anyone of their position. The sound of fighting continued to carry out in the open. Mira didn’t know who was winning and who was losing. Not knowing was killing her. Pulling the tarp up, she took a cautious peek to see. 

     _BANG! BANG!_

     The consecutive gunshots had her darting back behind the cover of the crates. It sounded way too close. Turning her head around to the other end of the truck, she saw the windshield of the truck covered in bullet holes, cracks like spider webs blemishing the glass, along with the spray of blood. She watched for any sign of life from the driver and the one beside him. No, they were dead. Turning her head back the other way around, she noticed that the gunshots had stopped and were replaced by the sounds of talking. Straining her ears, she tried to make out the language. She couldn’t understand some of the words. She could pick out bits and pieces of German and Finnish. Seems like the Russians lost. The conversation ceased only to be followed by the sound of footsteps drawing close to the back of the truck. A loud thump resounded in the space. Someone was inside. Taking the small knife concealed in the heel of her boot, she gestured at Maria to follow suit. Suddenly the tarp was pulled away. The only thing that was shielding them now were the crates. And they wouldn’t count on that to conceal them for long. Not when these men were opening and examining the contents of the boxes. 

     “Meditsiinitarbed.” A man’s voice rang out. (Medical supplies) 

     “Me laadime need hobustele.” Another voice replied. “Viige see tagasi peidikusse.” (We will load them on the horses) (Take it back to the hideout) 

     “Mehed kannavad neid hobustele. Kiirelt!” (Men carry these to the horses. Quick!) 

     The commanding shout was quickly followed by the noise of drumming feet; More people were entering the vehicle. Hearing the sound of rough wood scratching on wood and something rattling, she could tell that they were taking the crates. Footsteps grew louder as they neared their hiding spot. Not a moment after, a tall man with blonde hair appeared in their line of sight. 

     She watched as his eyes widened at the sight of her and Maria huddled between the crates. 

     “Alvar siin! Tule kiirelt!” The blond called out in alarm. (Alvar here! Come quick!) 

     Not long after, he was joined by a taller man, blond as well. He regarded them with narrowed blue eyes. She met his stare with one of her own, shielding Maria with her body. 

     “Mis see on?” He asked, his voice deep. “Paar Vene hoorad?” (What’s this? A couple of Russian whores?) 

     She couldn’t understand what he was saying so she shook her head to gesture at him that she couldn’t understand. He slowly lowered himself to their height, sitting on his haunches. He studied her face for a moment before his eyes flickered to Maria. Finally he spoke in Russian, his gaze settling back to look at her. 

     “Who are you? Why are you here?” 

     “I’m told I shouldn’t talk to strangers.” She answered back in Russian. Guerrilla they may be, she still didn’t trust them. The secret police may have had planted someone to work among their midst. 

     She watched as the corner of his lip curled up in amusement. “Well, aren’t you a feisty one.” 

     Her grip on the knife tightened, hiding it behind the folds of her skirts. She knew she was largely outnumbered. Fighting wouldn’t be wisest thing to do right now. Still, she couldn’t help but feel cautious. She continued to watch him warily. She didn’t even resist when he yanked her up to stand. Alarmed, Maria surged to her feet, ready to defend her. Mira quickly held an arm out to hold the younger girl back. Maria wasn’t the only one who leapt into action. Breznevh and Mateo came out from their hiding place, handguns leveled at the man who was holding her. 

     Seeing the two, the man snickered at them before looking back to face her. “Friends of yours?” 

     The other man seeing Breznevh and Mateo pulled out his rifle and pointed it at the two, waiting and alert. Mira quickly surveyed the situation. The other rebels had stopped they’re looting to aim their rifles at them. Letting out a breath through her nose, she spoke in a calm voice. 

     “Alekseev. Uncle Luis. Lower your weapons.” She used the fake names that were stamped on their passports. 

     “But Miss-“ Breznevh started to protest but she cut him off. 

     “Please do as I say.” 

     She watched them for a few seconds before finally they lowered the guns into the floor. As soon as they were lowered, the man holding her captive gestured to have them kick their weapons to the other side. She watched as Breznevh clenched his jaw, unhappy with the command before finally obeying. 

     Suddenly, a younger man came and whispered something in the man’s ear. Whatever it was, it sounded urgent. She watched as the man solemnly nodded before barking out a few foreign words. The other rebels scurried into the truck, picking up the remaining cargo. 

     “Well it seems that you fellows must come with us.” 

     That was all she heard before a sack was shoved on top of her head, obstructing her sight. The unwelcomed constraint set her into a panic. She immediately tried to struggle but her captor was quick to bind her wrists behind her. Around her, she could hear her friends struggle. The rebel then barked at them to quiet down or they’ll shoot. The threat immediately had them feeling cornered. 

     “Don’t struggle.” She called out to the others, her tone grim. If she fought, the others would do so too. So, she reigned herself in to gather her wits and to think of a plan. 

     They were shoved out of the truck, her feet hitting the dirt road. The hand on her arm yanked her so hard, she thought it would pop out from its socket. She gritted her teeth at the mistreatment. Due to her captor’s haste, she had to match his quick pace. Relying on him to guide her. 

     Mira couldn’t tell how long they were on the run. Her breathing had turned ragged from the exertion. The air under the sack had gone humid. The small strands of her hair stuck to her skin slicked with sweat. She desperately needed a bath to cool her down. She didn’t know where these men were leading them. From what little information she knew, the Forest Brothers’ hideout was one carefully concealed; probably somewhere in the woods or the moors, far from urban settlements. 

     Finally, after enduring being manhandled they finally stopped. A few seconds later, someone removed the sack from her head. Breathing heavily, she blinked her eyes, trying to adjust her vision from the darkness. Small yellow balls of light illuminated the space. Finally her sight focused to see an average sized room lit by lamps. The ceiling was low and the only furniture in the room was a wooden table with benches. Next to her, her captor untied her wrists. Once her hands were free, she massaged the skin on her wrists, red lines already marring it. She scowled at the man as he strolled leisurely towards the table. After taking a seat, he gestured towards the empty bench. She glared at him for a moment before she stalked towards the bench. Taking a seat, she waited for the others to follow suit. Finally, they did with Maria to her left and Mateo to her right, with Breznevh taking the place next to Mateo. 

     For a moment, they just sat there in silence, studying one another. The man opened his mouth to speak when they heard footsteps running towards their direction. Turning her head around, she saw a man, around his mid-forties arrive, his breathing ragged as his eyes darted around the people in the room before they settled on her. Recognition dawned on his face at the sight of her. She could feel her eyes harden. _Who was this stranger?_

     “Samuel, mida sa siin teed. Sa ei saa siin olla.” The rebel spoke, the one from earlier. (Samuel, what are you doing here? You can’t be in here.) 

     The stranger quickly transferred his gaze to the rebel. “Alvar. ma tean neid inimesi.” (Alvar, I know these people.) 

     “Kuidas sa neid tunnevad?” (How do you know them?) 

     “Mul oli ülesandeks neid leida.” (I was tasked to find them) 

     “Miks?” (Why?) 

     “Ma ei saa sulle öelda.” (I can’t tell you.) 

     “Samuel, olin see, kes neid leidis. Mitte sina.(Samuel, I was the one who found them. Not you.) 

     “Alvar, ma sooviksin, et saaksin teile rohkem rääkida. kuid teie enda ohutuse jaoks on see parim, mida te ei tea.” (Alvar, I wish I could tell you more. But for your own safety, it's best that you don't know.) 

     The conversation descended into silence as the man called Alvar glared at the man called Samuel. 

     “Kas ma räägin nendega?” (May I speak with them?) Samuel finally spoke, breaking the silence. 

     “Kas sa arvad, et olen loll? Nad võivad olla KGB osaks!” (Do you think I'm stupid? They could be part of the KGB!) 

     Right next to her, Mira felt Maria flinch as Alvar slammed his palm on the smooth surface of the table. Without breaking her attention on the two men, she silently placed a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder to comfort her. 

     “Ma kinnitan teile, et nad ei ole.” Unlike Alvar, Samuel answered back in a calm voice. (I assure you they are not.) 

     “Ei. Ma ei usalda neid inimesi.” (No. I do not trust these people)

     “Alvar, kui soovite Ameerika abi, järgige seda, mida ma ütlesin.” (Alvar, if you want American assistance, you will comply to what I said.) 

     Mir studied the tension that filled the room. She watched as a vein seemed to pop on Alvar’s forehead. Finally, the other man next to Alvar spoke. 

     “Alvar, me vajame kogu abi, mida saame saada.” (Alvar, we need all the help we can get.) 

     Alvar glared at the man before he finally conceded. “Hästi. Tee seda, mis sulle meeldib.” (Fine. Do what you like.) And without another word, he stormed out of the room. 

     Mira transferred her gaze to the other man who was rubbing his face out of frustration. Finally, he stood up with a sigh and left the room, shutting the door after him. Samuel turned his gaze towards its direction, his gaze narrowed. After a few seconds, he turned back to face them, studying her with his green eyes. 

     “Agent Moone.” He spoke in English before his gaze shifted towards the others. “Agent Stark. Agent Vesper. Agent Lennox.” 

     Mir cocked an eyebrow at him, studying him under a new light. He returned her gaze without hesitation. Rising to her full height, she walked towards him, her movements slow and deliberate before finally stopping a good distance. “How do you know that?” 

     “My name is Agent Knight. I work for the _OSS_.” 

     She couldn’t help but raise a skeptical brow at him. _A member of the Secret Intelligence Branch? Out here in Estonia? Weren't they supposed to concentrate their operations in Japan especially when the war in Europe was already won?_

     She raised her chin at him. “Prove it.” 

     Without breaking eye contact, he silently started to roll up the sleeve of his shirt up. Stretching his arm out so she could see, her gaze flickered towards the tattoo of a small spade inside an oval. She turned her gaze back to him only to find that he was already watching her. 

     “Agent Knight,” She started with an acknowledging tone. “What brings you here?” 

     “Agent Moone, I was sent to find you.” 

     “Who sent you?” 

     She already had a feeling on who was behind this. _God, Alfred could be such a worrywart sometimes._

     “Agent Samson did. And also Alpha.” 

     _Shit_. She was expecting the first one but for her President to call her back too? _Of course he would want you back immediately. He needs the information you were supposed to find, stupid._ “Why?” 

     “We were dispatched to retrieve you in case you were in trouble.” 

     Her gaze hardened at that. She knew they were just being cautious and deep down, she was grateful for their help but a little belief in her would have been nice. “We?” She couldn’t mask the irritation in her voice. 

     “A lot of us were sent to the Soviet Socialist Republics and other Soviet Union satellite states to keep an eye out for you.” 

     “Well, I’m here now. When can we leave for the States?” 

     “As soon as possible.” 

     “You think he’ll let us leave?” Mira asked, referring to the hot-headed Alvar. 

     “Oh, he will have to let us leave if he wants our help.” He assured her with confidence. 

     “Our help?” 

     “The boss also sent me to coordinate with the rebels. Offering them assistance in their fight against the USSR.” 

     “What kind of assistance?” She asked, her face troubled. If the USA openly sided with the rebels against the Soviet Union, this could be taken as an act of war. _What was Alfred thinking?_ She couldn’t help the building amount of worry that was pooling in her stomach. They couldn’t afford to be in another war so soon. The world just couldn’t. 

     As if sensing her unease, Knight quickly explained. “Our assistance will only involve providing supplies, liaison officers and logistical coordination. Nothing more.” 

     She studied him for a moment, trying to weigh the truth behind his words. He stared back unblinking. Finally, she sighed. “All right.” 

     She somehow knew he was telling the truth. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be wrong. Truman could be planning something against Stalin and was keeping his plans to himself for the moment. Unlike Roosevelt who was more of a pragmatic, Truman’s diplomatic style was more straightforward and to-the-point. She didn’t know what this could mean for the future. But she did know she had no say on the matter. The fate of the world rests alone on mortal hands. She was just a tool, a symbol of her people’s ideals, hopes and dreams. She was theirs to command. Such was the fate of being a country. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm so sorry for the Estonian text. I'm pretty sure that they're not accurate :(
> 
> Also, the Forest Brothers really did fight against the Soviet Union. Not only were they active in Estonia, but they were also active in Latvia and Lithuania.


	5. The Spoils of War

**_July 17, 1945_** __  
_ _

     Alfred F. Jones never cared much for dress pants and collar shirts. They were stiff, difficult to move in and just weren’t his style. He’d rather wear his usual bomber jacket for comfort but seeing as this was an important occasion, he couldn’t afford to be seen as anything less than mature and professional. As a young powerful nation who still had a lot to prove, the eyes of the entire world were always watching him-- waiting to see him fail. He couldn’t allow himself to make any sloppy decisions, not even if the matter was as trivial as appearances. He let out a tired sigh as he fixed the cuffs of his impeccable tailored suit. Right next to him sat his new boss, President Truman. They were currently headed to _Cecilienhof Palace_ in Germany for another conference with Russia and England. They were to discuss how to administer Germany. Other goals of the conference also included the establishment of post-war order, peace treaty issues, and countering the effects of the war.

     That was a whole lot to think about. Alfred couldn’t help but watch the scenery pass outside the window of the car, the whole time trying to keep his mind sharp on the objective for this event. He couldn’t afford to be sidetracked. But no matter how hard he tried, his concern was for his friends still out on the battlefield. His protectorate, the Philippines had just had her capital liberated from the Japanese last March but by the time Manila was retaken, most of the city had been reduced to rubble. He had gone to see her as soon as he could. He had been gone from her side for far too long, and by then he was already half mad with fear and worry, praying to whichever God that was listening that she’d be all right. What met his sight as soon as he arrived at Manila filled him with horror that would haunt him for centuries. Roads destroyed, bloodstains on asphalt, charred remains of the once vibrant historic houses littered the capital like a dark reminder of what took place. In an indirect way, he did this-- all because he had to leave her behind to focus on the European war front. He’d never forgive himself for this. As if his heart did not feel like it was full of lead already, his guilt solidified even more when he found her lying on the bed, her body wrapped up with bloodstained bandages to cover the damages she had taken. Such a sweet girl like Ria didn’t deserve to suffer such horrors. It was unfair. She was already on the road to getting her freedom back from him but he made her promised that he will officially recognize her independence only after a stable government could be established first in her country. Alfred couldn't help but wonder if he had given her her freedom like he had promised earlier on, would she had been spared by Japan? It doesn't matter now. Alfred vowed even more to make Japan pay for his atrocities no matter the cost.

     “Has there been any word from Asteria?” His thoughts were interrupted by no other than the man beside him.

     Turning his head around to face his boss, he answered in a clip tone. “No, sir.”

     His president remained silent after that. Alfred tried to gauge his reaction. Although Truman had his face focused on the other window, Alfred could tell that his president was annoyed by the other country.

     That was another matter that was chewing him up inside. The last update they had from Mira was that she would infiltrate the Kremlin on its victory celebration. Sending her there was a mistake. What was she thinking?! She’d stand out too much in a crowd and with Stalin having KGB trail and monitor immigrants coming to the Soviet Union, she was already at a great disadvantage.

     His mind flashed back to the moment he left for the war. He was preparing to board a warship that would take him to Europe to focus on the war with Germany. With the fall of France under German hands, the Allies had agreed to focus on Germany first since London and Moscow were under direct threat. Alfred had to remind himself to focus on the bigger picture. None of the major Allied capitals were under threat from Japan, and with Mexico protecting his back from another sneak attack coming from the Pacific, he could focus more on Germany. The faster the war ended in Europe, the faster he could save Philippines and all the others who had already fallen to the Japanese Empire. Or so he thought at first.

     “Alfred, wait!”

     A familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. Turning around, he saw Mir come running towards him. She was dressed in the brown dress uniform of the US Army Nurse Corps with her hair tied back into a neat bun. She was carrying a large suitcase by her side. He felt his brows furrow in exasperation at the girl.

     “Mir, what are you doing?” he asked when she finally reached him. She was so small that she had to tilt her head up just to look at him in the eye. Not that he’d ever tell her that in the face. He’d earn a good smack.

     “I’m coming with you of course!” She said with a confident smile.

     How could she be smiling when they were going off to war? His face scrunched up even more. “What?! No, you are not.” 

     “Of course I am. You need my help.” She insisted. Judging from her tone, Alfred surmised she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

     Still, he couldn’t be easily dissuaded. “Are you even allowed to go?

     “I already asked the boss. He said I can help in the medical field.”

     Alfred couldn’t help but rub a hand down his face in frustration. The girl truly was stubborn as fuck. Almost as stubborn as him!

     “Mir, I appreciate that you want to help but this is a war I’d rather you sit out of.”

     “What?!” Her eyes widened at his statement, looking absolutely insulted.

    _Uh-oh._ He knew he said the wrong thing. He watched with bated breath as her eyes narrowed critically at him. 

     “Do you think I can’t handle this? May I remind you that I’ve seen my fair share of blood and gore, Alfred.”

     _“Uh-oh_ , trouble with the girlfriend?” an amused voice suddenly asked, interrupting their conversation. Turning their heads, they watched as a tall soldier passed by them, a smirk playing on his lips. 

     Alfred just smiled at the jest, shrugging it off as he nodded politely at the man. Mir however... 

     “I’m not! I’m not his girlfriend.” Mir snapped, making a move to stalk after the soldier. “How many times must I tell you this, Adam.” 

     Alfred immediately clamped a hand around her arm to stop her before she could get into a fight. That brought her attention back to him, looking up at him with confusion in her brown eyes. He could feel his lips tighten. Gently, he pulled her to the side to have a proper conversation with her without being interrupted. 

     “It’s not that I don’t think you can’t handle it. I know you can but I would prefer if you stay here. I need someone who I can trust to watch over things here while I’m gone.” Alfred explained, keeping his voice gentle to persuade the other nation. 

     Her face softened at his words. “I understand. But Alfred, you know me. I’m not the type to stand idly by while you go fight this war alone. If not with the fighting then I can use my gifts in the medical field. Let me help you.” 

     “You can. Stay here and watch over our people. Send medical help or intel-- just please stay here.” 

  He watched as she opened her mouth to argue but he needed her to understand. “I’m already half mad with worry over what happened to Philippines and Hawaii. I can’t worry over you too.” 

    That seemed to get to her as she studied him for a moment, taking note of his seriousness. They had been friends for so many years, she could already tell when he was lying. He met her stare evenly. _Please understand._ He waited for any sign of response, for more outbursts or appeals before finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. 

     “Okay, I’ll stay.” She conceded. 

    Alfred felt his heart sag in relief. He gave her a small smile, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Watch out for the boss for me, will ya?” He requested as he quirked an eyebrow at her. 

  “Of course.” She nodded at him, mirroring his smile. He could detect the promise in her voice. That reassured him. 

     “Great!” He said, squeezing her shoulder one last time while giving her one of his cavalier smiles. Finally, he let go of her shoulder, backing away a little from her. “Well, I’ll be going then.” He said without losing the smile on his face. 

    “Please take care of yourself, Alfred.” Her voice was soft as she tried to keep the brave smile on her face though it did not match the sadness in her eyes. 

   “Don’t worry. I will. Hold the fort for me, okay?” He tried to make his tone light to reassure her. 

     “I will. I promise.” She nodded with conviction. 

    Alfred knew he was leaving his people in good hands. That reassured him. “Well, I’ll see you when I’ll see you, Mir.” 

     “Yeah, you too.” She answered with a small voice. 

   He nodded at her as he made his way back slowly towards the warship. 

    “Try not to miss me too much.” He added the teasing remark as he turned his head back to glance at her one last time. God knows when this war could end. 

     Her face instantly scrunched up in annoyance as she scowled at him. “I won’t, idiot.” 

     He chuckled at that before giving her a final wave. The scowl on her face immediately turned back into a sad, comforting smile as she raised her hand in farewell.  


     The memory faded and he was left back to where he started; worrying for the girl who he just learned shortly after returning to his own country, had gone out on a reckless suicide mission to spy on a certain murderous dictator. Oh when he finds her he’d make sure to give her an earful of scolding. He wasn’t usually the type to chastise a person; that was England’s job but Mir... No, she could handle herself, he knew that but putting herself in danger like that— _what the hell was she thinking?!_ If she was found out... His mind was plagued with thoughts of what Russia could do to her. _She’s already been through so much... But that’s just what makes her stronger._ A small voice added on the back of his mind. 

    He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when he caught sight of a large black iron gate rising from the distance. From behind it stood a proud manor. He watched as the gates opened to let them in. The car followed the circular driveway before it finally stopped at the main entrance of the place. His door was deftly opened by one of their men. Stepping out, he neatly buttoned his tailored jacket while thanking the agent. His eyes scanned the grounds. Lush gardens and an old manor in the Tudor style. At the foot of the stairs of the manor stood a dark haired woman in her late twenties. At the sight of him and President Truman, her lips stretched into a smile. 

   “President Truman. Mr. Jones.” She greeted them in English as she stepped towards them. “Welcome to Cecilienhof. My name’s Adele Sanders. I’ll be your general assistant during your entire stay here.” She offered her hand for a handshake. 

     They returned the gesture. After they had finished with their greetings, Adele stepped aside, waving a hand towards the direction of the door. “Please follow me.” And with that, she started walking. 

     They steadily followed after her, his president remaining quiet while Adele chatted chirpily. “I’ll be escorting you towards your chambers. This way please.” She said as they came towards a staircase. 

     “Have the others arrived yet?” Alfred found himself asking. 

  Adele glanced back at him with a smile. “You’re the second party to arrive. The British are already here.” 

    That got him to perk up. “Say, do you know where Arthur Kirkland is?” 

     “I’m guessing he’s in his room.” 

   They stopped by a wooden door. Twisting the knob, Adele opened the door. “Mr. President, this will be your room.” 

“Thank you, Adele.” His president nodded at her before entering the room. They followed closely behind. 

  “Would you like something to drink, sir?” 

     “Just a cup of coffee would be nice.” 

    “Of course, sir. I’ll let you settle yourself in while I lead Mr. Jones to his room.” 

     Truman just nodded his head in acknowledgement before settling himself into a seat. 

     “Mr. Jones, if you could please?” Adele called out as she headed back towards the door. Alfred deftly followed after her. Closing the door shut, they made their way towards his room. They didn’t even have to go far as his room turned out to be the one directly across from Truman’s. 

     “Wait.” He said as Adele proceeded to open the door for him. She stopped instantly, giving him a questioning look over her shoulder. “Can you take me to Arthur?” 

  


     “Churchill and Roosevelt were both wrong about Stalin.” Arthur spoke quietly from where he was seated, sipping his tea. They were currently in England’s room, discussing the wayward events that happened after Yalta.

     Alfred nodded in agreement. He never trusted the Commies to begin with, much less their dictator. This war alliance was nothing more than an international move of convenience. He never knew why his late president would choose to trust Stalin. Sure, the Communist General Secretary of the Soviet Union kept going on and on during the conference at Yalta about how the Russians had greatly sinned against Poland and that his administration would try to atone for their sins. He even went so far as to promise free elections in Poland despite the Soviet sponsored provisional government recently installed by him in Polish territories occupied by the Red Army. But of course in the end, Stalin broke his word and the _Declaration of Liberated Europe_ by planting puppet governments who were more Soviet aligned. He even had the nerve to insist that his control of Eastern Europe was a defensive measure against any possible future attacks and claimed that it was a legitimate sphere of Soviet influence. At this rate, sovietization and communism were sure to spread. 

     “Truman is right. It’s time we stop babying the Soviets. We cannot keep on making concessions for the commies at the expense of others. This charade has to end.” Alfred declared, his tone uncharacteristically serious. Now that Roosevelt was gone, it was up to his president, Churchill and Attlee to oppose Stalin. Although to be honest, Alfred did not know how they could go through with that. Truman was inexperienced with foreign affairs but had been keeping close tabs with the Allied progress during the war. Churchill and Attlee on the other hand were still awaiting results of the election for the position of Prime Minister. Churchill had always been wary of Stalin so Alfred was certain he could count on him. While according to England, Attlee was modest, unassuming, and a pragmatic. How he’d fare with foreign affairs was still left to be seen.

     “What are you planning?” Arthur asked, raising a curious brow.

     “For now, my president wants to focus more on Japan’s terms of surrender and on post-war Germany. But if the Soviet Union makes any more violations against any agreements, I’m sure President Truman will not stand idly by and so will I.” The promise in his voice rang loud and clear in the room. 

 

**_July 26, 1945_**

  


     It wasn’t until the tenth day that they were finally able to issue the terms and surrender for Japan. And with all the time that they’ve been at Cecilienhof, each day had been nothing but long and tiring. Every session they had was plagued with disagreements from various parties but they were finally able to come to terms despite Alfred promising not to make any more concessions to the Soviets. In the end, they all had to compromise. At last, they were able to move unto the major issue of Germany. Just like the meetings before, they were seated around a large circular table. All the important political and military figures from the three major Allied powers were present. 

     Alfred tried his best not to study Ivan who was sitting across from him. The communist country arrived last with his boss to join the conference. If Mira and Ivan had crossed paths during the last few days, the latter didn’t let it show. No, the chances were too low. Mira reported that she would be using a Soviet Union military officer to get herself into the Kremlin without having to get into close proximity with Stalin or the other countries under the Soviet Union which was a relief. Alfred didn’t trust what Russia could do to Mira. Her being a woman wouldn’t change how he’d probably treat her once he learns she was spying on them.

     Returning his attention back to the meeting, he listened as Stalin said something in Russian. The interpreter next to him listened intently waiting for him to finish before turning towards the other leaders inside the room.

     “He says that President Roosevelt has already agreed to give half of Germany’s war reparations to the Soviet Union.”

     Alfred’s president didn’t waste a breath to come up with a response. “We understand but we also need to think about the repercussions this could bring not only to the Germans but also to us. If we impose such heavy reparations on them like what happened at the Treaty of Versailles, this might lead to the rise of another batch of Nazis.” At that moment, Alfred couldn’t help the rising sense of pride and respect he had for Truman. Sure he was untested in dealing with Stalin but his boss was not the kind to be easily intimidated, especially by the Soviet leader.

     The interpreter was quick to do his job as Stalin listened closely, keeping his expression carefully guarded the entire time. Once finished, Stalin gave a shorter reply.

     “He says what do you suggest then, Mr. President?”

     Before Truman could respond, Stalin continued. Again, the interpreter fulfilled his role.

     “He says they lost twenty-seven million people thanks to the Nazis. Out of the twenty-seven million, nineteen million were nothing but civilians. Overall, that makes a quarter of their entire population. They need half of the war payment to rehabilitate all the industries and places destroyed during the war.”

     Alfred tried hard not to scoff at the irony. Now he cares about his people when he sends those who challenge him to the gulag on a daily basis? Aside from that, what about the vast number of people he starved to death to fuel his industrialization? The man truly was a load of bull. 

     From the corner of his eyes, Alfred watched silently as his boss clasped his hands together on top of the wooden table. Leaning forward, he kept eye contact with Stalin who met his stare evenly. “I do have a suggestion about that...”

  


     After long, careful negotiations, at last the meeting ended for the day. Gathering his things, Alfred stood up and was about to follow the others when someone called out his name with a thick Russian accent.

     “America.”

     Glancing behind him, he watched in surprise as Russia sauntered towards him, that same unreadable smile plastered on his face. Turning his body slowly around so he could fully face the other nation, Alfred raised a questioning brow at the Russian.

     “What is it, Russia?”

     “Well I was just thinking, since the war is over in Europe, why don’t we get a few drinks to celebrate.”

     Alfred felt his eyes widen in surprise. This was the first time that the Russian had ever asked him out for drinks. Alfred couldn’t help but feel a little bit suspicious for the other country. Then again, it seemed like a harmless offer. _What could go wrong?_ He smiled.

     “Sure.”

  


     They had been drinking for hours now. Night had fallen and the sound of activity inside the manor had been replaced by the sound of silence, save for the usual clinks of glass and tiny bouts of conversation. Alfred had already lost count of how much he had drunk. Judging from the number of empty bottles littering the table, probably a lot. His mind was starting to get muddled by the alcohol but not as much as England though. The Brit was currently slumped in his chair, his face red from intoxication. He was rubbing a tired hand all over his face before combing his messy blonde hair back with it. Alfred couldn’t help but snicker at the drunk.

     “Had enough, England?” He teased, as he raised a glass of whiskey to his lips.

     He watched with amusement as the other nation scowled at him beneath his bushy eyebrows. “In your dreams, you Yank.” Arthur replied sullenly as he reached to refill his empty glass.

     Alfred breathed out a small laugh as he reclined back on his seat, enjoying the moment of feeling unburdened by responsibilities. His gaze wandered to the Russian who was seating across from him, enjoying his vodka without letting his signature smile from slipping off his face. Out of the three of them, Russia seemed to be the least affected by the alcohol.

     Suddenly, both his and Russia’s attention was drawn back to England who let out a gruff curse under his breath.

     “God, it’s hot in here.” Arthur grumbled as he forcibly loosened the tie around his collar.

     “No, you’re just drunk.” Russia answered with a chuckle as he took a sip of his drink.

     Arthur just scowled at the remark but made no move to reply. Russia was right though. Though summer had sprung all over Germany, the nights had been cool. Still, since they were drinking, they had forgone the formalities that they had been forced to put on during the past couple of days and instead chose to use this time to unwind, removing their suit jackets and rolling up the sleeves of their shirts to enjoy their little break.

     “Say,” Russia said, drawing their attention to him. “How did you guys celebrate the end of the war in Europe back at your homes?”

     The question seemed so innocent, Arthur couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “We had street parties all over Britain.” Arthur answered, smiling fondly at the memory. “Everyone was singing and laughing, enjoying the festivities as they wandered about.”

     “I’m sure they deserved that, especially after everything that has happened.” Ivan commented as he sipped his vodka. “What about you, America?”

     “Hmm?” Alfred immediately perked up at the mention of his name. Seeing their curious gazes on him, he quickly answered. “Victory Day in Europe happened with President Truman’s birthday. So he dedicated the victory to our former president. Though the flags remained half-staff, there were huge celebrations from Chicago to Times Square.”

     “Ah, yes. Such a shame. I’m sure Roosevelt would have loved to witness Victory Day.” Russia said with a sympathetic nod.

     “What about you, Russia?” England asks as he leaned back on his seat with a smirk. “I heard that you Russians partied so hard you ran out of vodka.”

     Russia grinned at the statement. “Some of my people heard through the radio of Germany’s surrender at dawn. Instead of waiting for the morning to arrive, everyone took to the streets to celebrate in their pajamas. The next day, there was a nationwide hangover and there was no more vodka left in Moscow.”

     “Nice.” Alfred found himself saying with a smile as he raised his glass in salute.

     “Last week, we also had a formal victory celebration at the Kremlin.” Russia’s smile turned serpentine as he watched them. “Plenty of beautiful women showed up.”

     Alfred tried to school his face into one of mild interest. That was the celebration that Mir was supposed to infiltrate. He wasn’t sure where the Commie was heading with this conversation.

     From next to him, England scoffed loudly. “Really, Russia? I never would have taken you to be like that _Frog._ ”

     Alfred snickered at the statement. Russia though didn’t appear to be the least bit insulted, as he sipped his vodka keeping the serene smile on his face. “I assure you, I am not like France. I’m just telling the truth. Being in this war has made me appreciate beauty even more.”

     “Look at you, being all poetic all of a sudden.” Arthur grinned as he took a large gulp. “Maybe next we’ll be hearing how you ended the night with at least a dozen women.”

     “Nyet, not a dozen. Though there was this one particular girl who caught my eye.”

     Alfred couldn’t help but raise an incredulous brow at the Russian. “Oh?” This was the first time he heard Russia talk so freely about women. Maybe deep down, he really was just as much of a man as the rest of them.

     “Yes. She was quite young, probably around seventeen or eighteen. She had beautiful dark brown hair, almost black paired with fierce, penetrating earthy brown eyes.” Russia smirked as he studied their reactions.

     Alfred felt his breath caught up in his throat. That description matched Mira way too much. Alfred forced himself to appear nonchalant as his mind raced. Was this a trap? Has Mira been captured? Is the commie bastard playing with him? _No don’t panic, Al. It could be someone else._ Alfred tried to convince himself in vain as a sinking feeling started to form in the pit of his stomach. How many seventeen year old dark-haired girls with piercing brown eyes could be out there in Russia right now? He was sure there must be at least a few.

     “You should have seen her. Quite the spitfire if I can say so myself, especially with that feisty mouth of hers.” He remarked, studying them with maniacal eyes and that blasted smile.

     _Nope. Definitely, Mir._ Alfred felt his stomach drop. He tried to contain his rising fear and panic at the revelation. Forcing himself to remain unperturbed, he refilled his glass. He needed to find out what happened to Mira fast without giving himself away. Forcing a grin to appear on his face, he smirked smugly at the Russian. “So, I take it that you got lucky with this girl?

     Russia laughed at his insinuation. _“Secret.”_ He finally replied in a singsong voice, his violet eyes glinting with malice.

  


**_August 2, 1945_ **

  


     Today marks the last day of the conference. After that wretched drinking session with Russia, Alfred rushed himself to his president’s quarters ignoring the fact that it was already very late at night. He ignored the guards standing by the door and forced himself in.

     “What in the world?!” Truman barked out in anger, still dressed in his pajamas as he saw him barge in. “Alfred, it’s the middle of the night. What the hell are you doing?”

     Ignoring his boss’s question, Alfred went straight to the point. “He has her.”

     He watched as Truman’s eyes widened in shock before his gaze hardened. It seems his president was wise enough to know who he was talking about as he gave him a nod of understanding. Turning to the guards who entered to stop the nation, he spoke. “Leave us.”

     The men quickly obeyed without a struggle. After they shut the door close, Truman grabbed his robe putting it on as he settled himself down on a chair, looking exhausted. “How do you know this?” He asked, his voice nothing more but a whisper.

     Feeling impatient, Alfred recounted the part of the evening where Russia spoke about Mira. After he finished, his president studied him, his gaze sharp. 

     “There’s still a chance that it isn’t Asteria.”

     “No, it has to be her or Ivan wouldn’t have taunted the information out to us like bait. I believe he was using it to see who would react in an incriminating manner.”

     “Then you shouldn’t have rushed here like a panicked rabbit looking for shelter from the hounds.” Truman scolded.

     “No. I made sure they saw me enter my room first before going to yours.”

     Truman kept silent, appearing to be thinking as he massaged his temple in concentration. Alfred couldn’t take it any longer.

     “Mr. President, what are we going to do now?” he finally asked, the concern was evident in his voice. Mir was in danger. There must be something he could do.

     “We’re still not sure if he really has her. In the mean time, alert our agents all throughout Europe. I want to know if they know her whereabouts.”

     _That’s not enough!_ Alfred wanted to yell at his boss but forced himself not to. Instead, he asked in a challenging tone. “And what if they don’t?” 

     “Then I will have to make Stalin bow to me.” Truman stared at him, his tone both steely and promising.

     The memory faded bringing Alfred back to the present. They were currently exchanging farewell greetings with everyone. He was standing at Truman’s side as his president shook hands with the Premier of the Soviet Union who had the towering figure of Russia beside him.

     Alfred watched silently as Stalin said something in Russian with a smile on his face. His interpreter quickly spoke afterwards.

     “Three months has passed since Germany’s surrender. We will honor our word to enter the war against the Empire of Japan.”

     “That is good news. Now that Germany and Italy are out of the picture, I’m sure it’ll only be a matter of time before Japan surrenders too. This world war is almost at its end.” Truman answered, his tone sounding self-assured.

     The interpreter made quick work with the translation. Stalin’s smile grew wider as he listened before making his own reply. Again, the interpreter served as a bridge of communication between the two.

     “You are confident, he says.”

     This time, it was Truman’s turn to smile wider. “The United States now possesses a new weapon of unusual destructive power. Should Japan refuse to comply, they will be met with prompt and utter destruction.”

     Stalin's eyes widen in surprise as he listened to his interpreter, giving a short bark of laughter when he finished before finally speaking.

     “He says that is excellent as it’ll save us all much needed resources. He also says that to make good use of this new addition to the Allied arsenal.”

     Without wasting a breath, Truman replied coolly as he looked at Stalin directly in the eye. “Tell him that we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) This conference is called the Potsdam Conference. This meeting would be the last conference between the Major Allied powers before the world descended into the Cold War.
> 
> 2) It was actually on July 24,1945 that President Harry S. Truman hinted to Stalin of the nuclear weapon they created. Historians have often interpreted Truman’s somewhat firm stance during negotiations to the U.S. negotiating team’s belief that U.S. nuclear capability would enhance its bargaining power. Stalin, however, was already well-informed about the U.S. nuclear program thanks to the Soviet intelligence network; so he also held firm in his positions. This situation made negotiations challenging. (Source:https://history.state.gov/milestones/1937-1945/potsdam-conf)
> 
> 3) The Philippines was an American protectorate. During the Spanish-American war, the Americans promised not to colonize the Asian country because they said America had no need for colonies.(Source:http://www.filipinoamericanwar.com/emilioaguinaldoreturns.htm) 
> 
> Of course, they went back on their word as their were no signed documents to cement the agreement. After the Spanish-American War and the Treaty of Paris, the Philippines became an American colony. It wasn't until 1934 that America promised again to bestow independence to the Filipinos but only after they established a stable government in the country since the Americans were starting to grow concerned with the Empire of Japan who has always wanted to colonize the Southeast Asian country since Spanish Colonial period. The Tydings–McDuffie Act provided for the drafting and guidelines of a Constitution, for a 10-year peaceful "transitional period" as the Commonwealth of the Philippines before the granting of Philippine independence. The Philippines was scheduled to become independent on 1945 but of course WW2 happened so they had to postpone it since the Philippines fell to the Japanese on 1942. 
> 
> P.S.
> 
> Please don't be afraid to share your thoughts or suggestions on the comment section :)


	6. Black Sun

     Alfred was itching for some action. The nine hour flight from Germany to Washington D.C. made matters worse for his feeling of restlessness. Mir was out there somewhere, in Russia’s hands of all people. Who knew what the sick sadist could be doing to her right now? His mind refused to acknowledge the possibilities. And there he was, doing nothing but sit on his private jet as they returned home from the taxing conference.

     Surely there must be something they could do aside from waiting? He had a vast network of spies all over the world. Surely Truman could spare a few to find Mir and bring her back? They couldn’t just leave her there. He made her a promise a long time ago and he was never going to break it.

     “Alfred.” A voice called out, disrupting his thoughts.

    Turning his gaze from the window, he saw his president standing by his seat, a hand gripping his shoulder. Alfred raised a questioning brow at the man. “What is it?”

     “You’re going to destroy the armrests.” He simply answered.

     Alfred felt his brows knot in confusion. “What?”

     In answer, Truman’s gaze fell on his hands. Following his stare, he saw that his hands had been gripping the armrests so tight, his knuckles had turned white. Quickly, he eased his grip, clenching his hands into a fist instead in order not to destroy anything more. Muttering an apology, he leaned back on his seat, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor.

     “Alfred.” His president called out again.

     “What?” Alfred couldn’t help but snap at the man.

     Truman gave him a look that showed he was not pleased by his tone. Alfred heaved out a sigh, knowing he was in the wrong. “Sorry.”

     His boss seemed to take his apology as he squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. “Worrying won’t get you anywhere. I suggest you get some sleep. I’ll figure out a plan for Asteria.” And with that he walked away.

     After his talk with Truman, Alfred kept his gaze trained towards the window. How could he sleep at a time like this? With a tired sigh, he reached for his glasses before tucking them inside the pocket of his jacket. Shutting his eyes close, he rubbed a hand all over his face in exhaustion. He welcomed the darkness that greeted him as he forced his mind to cease plaguing him with thoughts of a certain dangerous country and his friend he had sworn to protect.

 

  


     Alfred woke up to the sensation of someone shaking his shoulder. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he squinted at the blurry face of the person in front of him. Reaching a hand on the inside of his jacket, he pulled out his glasses. After putting them on, he was greeted by the serious face of his boss.

     “We’re here.”

     After disembarking, they made their way back towards the White House. The midday sun did nothing to brighten his miserable mood at all. He quickly removed his coat upon entering the building. Turning his back, he placed it on the awaiting hands of one of the secretaries awaiting their arrival by the entrance. This place was the seat of his government. The place where his president exercised his power and authority, and yet Alfred never felt so helpless than at that moment. Waiting was never his strongest suit. He demanded action. Heroes don’t sit around and wait. They go out there and save people, no matter the consequences. And Mira just wasn’t some person or an American territory, she was his--

     “Alfred.”

     He felt his heart stop than soar. He knew that voice. Turning away from the assistant, he gawked at the owner of the voice, hardly believing his own eyes. She was standing on the other side of the room, leaning on the wall behind her with a smirk playing on her lips.

     “Mir?” He found himself saying in disbelief.

     Her eyes crinkled with happiness at the dumb look on his face. “Welcome home, weirdo.” 

 

  


     Alfred could hardly focus on the food on his plate which was very weird, even for his standards. He had the female nation on his right to blame for that as he was busy gaping at her as she ate her meal with much gusto. He wasn’t alone though. President Truman was sitting across from him, staring at Mira as if she was some kind of alien. The three of them agreed to eat lunch together first before they could ask her questions but it was more like they were waiting for the girl to finish devouring her food. From time to time, she’d look up from her plate to meet their gazes, a silly smile spreading on her face. That just made him gawk at her more. This girl was inhuman.

     From where he was seated, Alfred studied her appearance. Her long hair that had once reached passed her shoulders had been reduced into a bob. The strands barely passed her chin. Aside from that, the girl seems to be fine. No bruises, no scratches, no sign of abuse or trauma at all. Not what you’d expect from someone who just escaped Russia himself. Aside from the feeling of gratitude for having her return home safely, inside he was also burning with questions to ask her.

     Finally, Mira set her fork down. Grabbing her glass, she took a huge gulp of water before settling it down. After patting her lips with the table napkin, she settled it back down on the table. Her eyes wide as she waited for them to speak. That was his cue.

     “What the hell, Mir!” He snapped as he slammed a hand on the table.

     That earned a small flinch from her but he was too angry to stop. “I told you to stay and watch the fort! And what do you do instead? Went on a freaking trip to freaking Russia of all places!”

     He watched as she opened her mouth as if to explain but he was only getting started. “And for weeks we didn’t hear anything from you. I thought you were captured, Mir! Or worse!”

     Mir pursed her lips, looking like she had swallowed a lemon whole as he continued on ranting. "And now you come here like nothing happened! I thought we were friends, Mir. I thought I could trust you. When l thought you were captured..." He shook his head. He couldn't say the rest, having been too horrified by the images his mind conjured. His imagination had ran wild as they formulated what could have happened to her at the hands of Ivan. He felt like his mind was close to bursting. 

     After a few seconds, Mira finally spoke, jutting her chin up bravely. Her face now fixed into one he was used to seeing; Firm, proud, and strong.

     “I didn’t mean to go against your orders, Alfred. I tried to keep my promises. I kept watch over everyone while you were away. Former President Roosevelt asked me to go. You know I couldn’t say no. He was my boss as much as he was yours. It was never my intention to make you worry. I’m sorry.” She said, sincerity oozing out of her voice but it did nothing to soothe his anger. For God's sake, he was willing to turn Europe upside down just to search for her. His President even threatened Stalin partly for her. A simple apology wouldn't cut the amount of turmoil he'd been through. 

     "What the hell were you thinking?! You did not only endangered yourself, you also put your own people at risk! What if they caught you, huh? What then? Your true identity could have been discovered! How would you be able to protect them when Russia is done playing with you?!" 

     At his last sentence, Mira flinched, immediately letting go of the usual brave front she had. Her face turning pale with her eyes wide with shock and horror. His heart skipped a beat in horror, realizing what he had just done. He should not have said that. He immediately opened his mouth to apologize. 

     "Mir, I didn't mean..." He started to say, trying to catch her gaze. "I'm so sorry..." 

     She made no reply. He could not even see her face as Mira kept her head low, keeping her gaze down on the table. Inside, Alfred silently cursed himself for his insensitive mouth. He did not mean to trigger painful memories. He never wanted to hurt her. God, why did he have to mess up every single thing?! He felt like a total asshole right now. 

     “Alfred, that’s enough.” Finally, Truman spoke to break the tension, though it had no effect on the guilt that was clawing at him on the inside.

     He didn’t mean to yell at her. He knew he got carried away. Clenching his jaw shut, he tried to calm himself down. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ He berated himself. 

     “Asteria,” This time it was their president who spoke which drew her attention to their boss. “You knew Roosevelt was unwell,” He reminded, his tone mildly chiding. “His mind could have been muddled due to his condition. You could have checked in with me first about it before going on such a reckless mission.”

     “With all due respect, Mr. President, I knew what I was risking.” She said, looking him in the eye. “But as a country with people to think of, I had to do something. If Stalin wishes to force his communist ideals to the rest of the world, this threatens not only you, but my people as well. I admit I had my reservations on doing such a dangerous task but someone had to do it. And I didn’t leave without careful planning.” She aimed that last part back at him; Alfred could tell as her sharp gaze met his.

     “Asteria, tell us what happened.” Truman asked.

     Mir broke her gaze to stare back at their president. Taking a deep breath, she started recounting her story, starting from the victory celebration. The more he listened, the more he was astounded of how crazy it all was. She was clever, cunning, and tenacious all right but no amount of careful planning and strategies could ever prepare for the real deal. Heck, a small part of him even believed that she only made it back due to sheer, dumb luck! He needed to have a talk with her about this when they were alone.

     After she finished with her tale, the room became silent. Finally, Truman spoke, his tone not betraying any sort of emotion at all.

     “It’s a miracle you made it out. Who knows what the Russians would have done to you.”

     Mir made no reply. That prompted their president to continue. “Well, I’m glad that you are back, Asteria. We’ve got important things to discuss.”

     Alfred straightened up in his seat, meeting Mir’s questioning look with a serious one. He had a feeling on what Truman was going to discuss next. He watched as the American president slid a couple of documents into Mir’s direction. With a cautious look in her eyes, she slowly opened the file, her eyes widening as they scanned the contents.

     “They did it. They finally did it.” She said in awe before she frowned at them, her forehead creased with confusion. “But I don’t understand. Why are you showing this to me?” Alfred could already tell she knew something was wrong. Ever perceptive Mir.

     “Mir,” He started to say, unsure how to break the news to the female nation. “During our latest conference in Germany, we gave an ultimatum to the Empire of Japan to surrender. We haven’t received any word from them...” He left the sentence hanging in the air.

     He wasn’t surprised to see the look of horror on her face. She always had that uncanny ability to read between the lines. “Alfred, you can’t be serious...” She was looking at him in denial now.

     “Asteria, during the last day of the conference, I gave my word to use the nuclear weapon we have on Japan.” Truman voiced out, stealing Mira’s attention.

     Alfred could hear her sharp intake of breath as she shook her head vehemently at them in disbelief.

     “I gave the Japanese government time to think about surrendering. It was even written in the document of the Potsdam Declaration that should they refuse to comply, they will be faced with prompt and utter destruction.” Truman explained carefully, watching the female nation the entire time. “And still, they choose to ignore the warning.”

     “But must you really resort to nuclear warfare?” She insisted as she gave their boss a beseeching look. “What about all the people who’ll die?!”

     “I am thinking about our people!” Truman finally snapped as he slammed his palm on the table, making the glassware rattle. “Japan may be surrounded but his defences on his outlying islands make it difficult to breach. An invasion would take a year, probably more. And with all that time, countless lives will be spent needlessly.”

     “You mean _American_ lives.” Mir spat out, her voice dripping with venom and disgust at their leader.

     Truman didn’t seem miffed at her disrespectful attitude towards him. Without breaking eye contact, he replied to her coolly. “This war has gone on too long. I’m ending it once and for all.”

     Mir could only shake her head in revulsion at what their president just said. Turning her head around, he was greeted by her brown eyes, wide and pleading. “Alfred, this is insane! Surely you’re not going through with this, are you?”

     He kept silent, refusing to meet her stare. How could he even begin to explain why they were doing this? That they had promised and low keyed threatened the Soviet Union that they weren’t afraid to use their newly acquired nuclear power? Not just on Japan but also to those who threaten their way of living? His president had thought that if he hinted about their weapon to Stalin, the Soviet Union dictator would think twice before doing anything to anger the other Western power. If he went back on their word, he was sure the world will never forget that sign of weakness and possibly use that weakness against him. With the end of the war drawing nearer, he could feel his place in history getting clearer and clearer and so were the other pawns on the chessboard. And it was vital that he establish himself as a superpower of the world before that happens.

     “Alfred, please... Think of all the innocent people who’ll suffer.” She begged, waiting anxiously for his response.

     Her choice of words struck a nerve within him. Levelling a glare at her, he said through gritted teeth. “And what about those at Pearl Harbour, huh?! They were innocent too! But that didn’t seem to stop the Japs from bombing the place up! We weren’t even at war with them at that time and yet they went behind our backs to launch a surprise attack.”

     Mira opened her mouth as if to argue but he cut her off. “No, Mir. You don’t get it. If you’ve only seen what they did to Guam and Philippines, you’d understand.” His voice quivered as an image of the two bloodied nations entered his mind. He could never forgive himself for leaving them to focus on the European war theater. But what has passed can no longer be changed. But now he had this chance to redeem himself to the three nations who were supposed to be under his protection. And this time, he will not fail.

     Mir stared at him with sad eyes. Bowing her head, she gazed down at the table. Finally she spoke, her voice hoarse. “I know that you’re angry, Alfred.” She bit her lip before looking back at him, the resolve burning inside those eyes. “I do understand that. You have every right to feel that way. But ask yourself this. Do they really deserve such fate? We’re talking about huge scale annihilation here. Not just soldiers! Men, women, and children dying! Can you live with yourself knowing it was you who did that to them?”

     He felt his nose flare at her words, his head beginning to pound from a mixture of anger, exhaustion, and frustration. “Don’t bullshit me now with speeches about moral values, Mir. This is how wars are supposed to be!”

     “I’m not fucking around either, Alfred!” She snapped, finally raising her voice as she glared at him. “You always said that I let my anger get the best of me sometimes. Well, I’m telling you the same thing now. Don’t let your anger and hatred cloud your judgement.”

     “Say whatever you want. At the end of the day, it’s not my call to give.” He said coldly at her, knowing she’ll understand to who he was referring to. Shifting their gaze back to their president, they waited for his answer with bated breaths.

     Truman looked at each of them before sighing heavily. “I still have to discuss this with my advisers. You are dismissed for the day.” He kept his answer vague and with that reply, President Truman left without saying another word.

     That left the undeniable tension and remnants of the argument to the last two remaining in the dining room. Alfred studied Mira as she refused to meet his gaze. Her face shifting to the other side to avoid looking at him directly.

     _Can you live with yourself knowing it was you who did that to them?!_ Her words echoed back in his head, strong and brutally true.

     Swallowing the lump inside his throat, he opened his mouth to speak only to realize he had nothing more to say that could not lead to an argument. Shutting his mouth, he sighed in defeat before resolving himself to leave. He needed to sleep the headache that was beginning to annoy him. Standing up, he made his way towards the exit when he was stopped by a small voice coming from the other nation in the room.

     “Alfred, I know you are a better person than this. So please, be the better man.”

     Her words sunk into him making him pause but he refused to look back at her. Without waiting for her to say more, he left.

 

  


     That night, Alfred resolved himself to a few drinks alone in his room. Ever since having that argument with Mir, his mind was stormed by a whirlwind of thoughts. Mir’s words kept repeating over and over in his head like a freaking drill. Try as he might to deny it, a small part of him knew she was right.

     Maybe he really was letting his anger get the better of him. Maybe the Japanese didn’t deserve such punishment. But those thoughts clashed strongly with his thirst for justice and redemption. Heaving out a loud sigh, he took a huge swig of bourbon, the sweet smoky flavor swirling on his tongue. Putting the glass down, he was about to reach for the bottle to refill his empty glass when a knock sounded on his door. His face scrunched up with confusion and mild annoyance. It was already near midnight. He had intentionally eaten his dinner at his room, believing that the others would get his message of wanting to be left alone. Clearly some people just couldn’t take the message. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he slowly made his way towards the door.

     Turning the knob, he pulled it open only to be greeted by the last person he thought he’d see—what with her refusing to meet his gaze after they had that fight. Seeing him open the door, Mir immediately perked up, watching his face carefully. He felt his brows furrow at her, his lips setting into a frown. _What was she doing out here so late at night?_ If she came to fight, he wasn’t in the mood.

     “Alfred...” She started to say, looking unsure as she met his gaze. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

     He inhaled sharply, keeping his face passive. Oh, he was still pretty damn mad at her. But watching her look at him with those wide apologetic eyes made him think otherwise. Finally letting out the breath he was holding, he stepped aside, a silent invitation for her to come in.

     Breathing out a small sigh of relief, she entered, thanking him for letting her in. He slowly sauntered towards the couch, his hands tucked inside his pockets. Sitting down, he gestured for her to take the one across from him. Thanking him again, she took a seat. For a second, she seemed to be studying the amount of empty bottles on top of the table. Finally, her gaze flickered back to him as he finished pouring the alcohol on his glass. Fixing a questioning glance at her, he spoke.

     “Want some?”

     “Yes, please.” She answered, her voice soft.

     Standing up, he walked towards the small table on the back, taking a small glass before flopping back down on the couch. Busying himself with fixing her a drink, he tried to ignore her gaze. Finally finishing, he handed the glass to her. Murmuring her thanks, she took it from him before taking a swig. He leaned back on the leather seat, watching her tiredly. For a few minutes, they continued on like that, just basking in the silence while keeping each other company. It was comfortable as it was familiar. Alfred had already lost count of how much time had passed before Mira finally spoke.

     “It was never my intention to upset you, Alfred.”

     He perked up at the mention of his name, settling his drink back on his lap as he directed his gaze at her. She was sitting on the couch with her upper body leaning forward, her elbows nestled on top of her legs. Her gaze was kept down on her hands as she rubbed them together as if conscious of his gaze on her. Finally, she took a deep breath and met his stare.

     “I thought that if I acted as if nothing happened, you’d stop worrying. Clearly, I was wrong and that backfired on me.”

     He remained silent, processing her words. To think that she’d go that far to mask the harrowing events in the last couple of weeks just so he’d stop worrying... He should have been expecting this from her. Finally, he sighed.

     “I’m sorry for yelling at you too.” He said, his voice soft.

     She quickly shook her head at him vehemently. “Oh no no no. I completely deserved that. If you lost your cool, clearly you were that worried about me. I’m really sorry, Alfred.”

     “It was just... Russia used you to taunt me.”

     “Used me?” she cocked her head to the side, looking confused.

     “At the conference...We were out drinking. I should have known it was a ploy to get me to lower my guard down.”

     He watched as Mira’s gaze lowered to the floor, her face looking deep in thought. He continued.

     “He even invited England. I believe he was trying to find out who you were working for. _The cunning bastard_.” He growled, remembering the perverted smile on the Russian’s face when he kept talking about Mir in that provocative manner. He felt his blood boil in anger.

     “Did he?” Mir asked, her voice small.

     That tone of hers made Alfred pause. He tried to catch her eyes but she refused to meet his gaze.

     “No. You’re safe.” He reassured her. He may look like he can’t sense the atmosphere but he knew she was feeling troubled. The guarded look on her face was proof of that.

     If she was relieved by his answer, she didn’t let it show. Finally, she met his gaze, her face looking guilty. “I’m sorry, Alfred.”

     “What for?” He asked, feeling confused on why she would be apologizing.

     “He’s probably scouring the entire place, hunting down spies. Now the Soviet Union will have an even tighter security because of me. I messed up.”

     This time, it was his turn to focus his gaze towards the ground. Did she really mess up though? When he had learned that she was in Moscow, the first thing he did was send her a message through his network of spies. He had given her an order not to have contact with other countries or any of their political figures as much as possible. To lie low as much as possible. This was done to ensure that chances of her crossing paths and facing off with Russia would be minimal. To his surprise, her reply had said she was already doing that and she was being extremely cautious. He thanked his lucky stars that she was agreeing with him on the matter. On any other case, she would have gotten mad at him for ordering her about. Mir might have an unpredictable streak but she was clever and calculating. She wouldn’t take a risk without listing off the pros and cons.

     At last, he flashed her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mir. You did your best. Things just get in the way.”

     She didn’t look convinced. Taking her glass from the table, she took a drink. Finally, she spoke. “Alfred...”

     He gave her a hum as a response as he took a swig of the bourbon.

     “I know you’re still angry at Japan,” she begun to say, her tone cautious and her eyes wide. “But can you please give him more time?” She asked, her eyes watching him carefully as she waited for his reply.

     He paused at that, not knowing what to say. He fixed her with a silent stare. Noticing the look on his face, she quickly continued.

     “Please? I’m sure they’re still deliberating on the matter.”

     “It’s not my decision to make, Mir. And besides, it’s been days. They’re plainly ignoring us. How long are we supposed to overlook that?” He grumbled. He didn’t want to discuss the sensitive topic of Japan now but it seems like he was going to have to at some time. Might as well get it over with.

     “All I’m asking for is time. Maybe you can convince Truman? Maybe he’ll listen if it comes from you.” She pleaded, her brown eyes searching his.

     He met her gaze and found his resolve softening. When she was gazing at him with those wide pleading eyes of hers, how could he ever say no? With a defeated sigh, he nodded. “All right. I’ll try asking.” He watched as a relieved smile spread all over her face. “But I’m not making any promises, okay? If Japan continues to pretend like we haven’t issued him an ultimatum, there is nothing more I can do for him, do you understand that, Mir?”

     She nods her head fervently at him. “Of course! That’s good enough for me,” She said, her shoulders sagging in relief as she gave him a small grateful smile. “Thank you, Alfred.”

     He could only give her a small nod in return. Even if he convinced Truman to wait, he wasn’t sure how much time he could give Japan. For both their sakes, he prayed that the proud Asian empire would submit soon.

 

  


_**August 6, 1945, 6:30 AM** _

  


     Alfred kept his gaze fixed ahead and beyond the crowd, wishing he was someplace else and not in front of a dozen reporters as they aimed theirs cameras at him and President Truman. The resounding clicks and white flashes of the devices swept over his senses, making him feel nauseous. This was not what he wanted. Sure, maybe at first but when he saw images of the destruction...

     He had to remind himself that he had done everything that he could. Heck he even had his bombers drop leaflets all over Japan, also broadcasting to their radios the declaration for the terms of surrender—anything just to get the people to listen. But in the end, it still wasn’t enough.

     _So many dead_. Well, what was he expecting? It was an atomic bomb after all! 

     Alfred was only half-listening as his president droned on his speech, his eyes zoning in on someone standing on the sidelines. Mira’s face was shadowed with sadness and grief. He felt his gut tighten at the sight. Finding he could no longer meet her gaze, he kept his head down, swallowing the lump in his throat.

     _“We are now prepared to obliterate more rapidly and completely every productive enterprise the Japanese have above ground in any city. We shall destroy their docks, their factories, and their communications. Let there be no mistake; we shall completely destroy Japan's power to make war. It was to spare the Japanese people from utter destruction that the ultimatum of July 26 was issued at Potsdam. Their leaders promptly rejected that ultimatum. If they do not now accept our terms they may expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth …”_

     From the corner of his eyes, he saw Truman step away from the podium, not bothering to entertain the avalanche of questions coming from the reporters. Straightening his back, he followed after his boss. Alfred didn’t know why, but suddenly he felt his steps grow heavy and a dark empty pit burning in his chest.

  


**_August 9, 1945_ **

  


     After airing the broadcast to Japan, Alfred thought that Japan would finally heed the Potsdam Declaration and meet the terms. To his surprise and frustration, the Japanese government were now more committed than ever in ignoring their demands for surrender and continued to fight on.

     At the rate things were going downhill, Alfred couldn’t stop his boss’s decision to drop another bomb. His president had just informed him that the _Bockscar_ had just dropped the Fat Man on Nagasaki, one of the largest seaports in Japan.

     At the news, Alfred felt lightheaded. Excusing himself from his boss, he locked himself inside his study. Crumpling into his seat, he placed his head on his hands, his fingers gripping into his hair. He tried to convince himself it wasn’t his fault. Japan should’ve known better! He should have let his pride go to prioritize his people’s safety. All those people gone, evaporated like smoke. His gut wrenched and twisted at the morbid details. This wasn’t his fault! He tried his best to get them to listen. Everything that has happened was way out of his hands. But no matter how many times he tried to shift the blame, a dark part of him knew he was as much as at fault just as Japan.

     _Damn it!_ He shouldn’t feel sorry for him. Japan started this war after all. So why did he feel so much pity for his enemy? Why was it tearing him so much inside?

     Suddenly, the door burst open but he paid it no heed. He was shaking so bad.

     “Alfred, I just heard what happened!” Mir’s voice sounded shrill in the room but he kept his head down not wanting to face her at the moment.

     “Alfred! Say something!”

     _Why did she sound so far away?_ He felt too lost in a haze to care. Probably too stricken with the feeling of shame and guilt slowly pulling him under.

     _It’s not my fault... Not my fault...._

     He couldn’t even process it—not until he was blinking heavily from the tears clouding his vision.

     “Alfred...” Mir’s soft voice called out to him. He felt her lay a comforting hand on the side of his head before pulling him gently towards her. Her small arms wrapped around him, rubbing his back as the sobs wracked his form. He could hear her whispering words of comfort.

     _It’s not my fault..._

 

  


     Weeks after Japan’s official acceptance of surrender, Alfred had opted to stay in his own home instead of going there to oversee the Allied occupation. He didn’t want to see him. Not yet. Not after everything that happened.

     In his stead, Mir had gone out to accompany General Douglas MacArthur, the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers. In his spare time, he had gone out to visit Philippines and Guam to see how they were doing but now he was back in Washington D.C for official business. His president had sent word for him to return as soon as possible. He didn’t explain much over the phone, only saying that Mira had news she needed to share immediately with the two of them. Following his boss’s orders, he had left on his private jet as soon as things could be made ready.

     As soon as he arrived, he briskly made his way towards the President’s office, knowing Truman and Mira were already waiting for him. Coming through the door, he saw Mira standing in the middle of the room. She gave him a smile and a small nod to welcome his arrival.

     “Hey Alfred.”

     “Mir,” He replied, giving her a nod in return. “What’s this about?” He asked, his gaze falling on Truman who was busy studying a set of documents sprawled on top of his desk, his brows furrowed in displeasure.

     Seeing the look on his president’s face, he sent a questioning gaze back at Mira. Reading the question on his face, she explained. “Alfred... The real reason I was sent to Japan was to look into Unit 731 of the Imperial Japanese Army in Manchukuo. Their job was to perform dangerous research for biological and chemical warfare by carrying out human experimentation on people of all ages.”

     He waited for her to continue, unsure where she was going with this.

     She glanced at Truman for a moment, looking unsure before continuing. “Alfred, they planned to use biological weapons against you.”

     “By biological weapons, do you mean—“

     “The plague. They were planning to use the plague to infect innocent civilians in Southern California.” Truman finally spoke, his tone etched with anger.

     He felt his heart stop at his words. Horrid images of people’s tissues turning black before dying, body parts swelling, and vomiting up blood ran through his head.

     “This plan of theirs was scheduled this September. It’s a good thing we got to them first before they unleashed this hell on us.”

     Despite his previous shock, Alfred felt his rage boil at his leader’s callous words. “‘ _It’s a good thing we got to them first’_ ?!”

     He watched as Truman’s eyes widen in shock at his sudden display of anger.

     “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Thousands of people died!” He spat out at his leader.

     Holding his hands up, Truman tried to placate him. “Alfred, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. All I meant was—“

     “Oh I know what you meant! But you’re sick for throwing others under the bus if it means that you save your own ass!”

     “How dare you!” Truman finally snapped, banging his hands on the table. Standing up, he leveled a furious glare at him. “I did what I had to do! This nation’s welfare and the safety of its people— _you’re_ people, falls to me! It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong. Making our people sleep better at night, keeping them safe—that priority stands above the rest. Even principles.”

     Alfred clenched his jaw, restraining himself from landing a blow on his boss. Their heated glares were locked unto each other, neither refusing to back down.

     Finally, Truman spoke in a broken whisper, his body tense with restrained anger. “Get. Out.”

     Alfred narrowed his eyes at his boss. All of a sudden, he felt a gentle tug on his arm. Glancing down, he was reminded that Mir was still in the room with him. She was looking up at him with dark solemn eyes. She seemed to convey that he wasn't alone in his feeling of anger towards their president. Silently, he obliged her silent request. They left the office, heading back towards his room.

     As they entered his room, he sighed before flopping down on his bed. “The guy’s a coldhearted son of a bitch.”

     “I know. What a monster.” Mira answered as she flopped down next to him.

     For a time, they just laid there in silence, enjoying each other’s company. At last, Mir turned her head towards him. “Do you know what this means?”

     He turned his face towards her, quirking a brow at her in confusion. “What?”

     “It means you can stop feeling so guilty about Japan. If you want to apologize to him in behalf of our president, you can start by helping him now-- well if you still want to of course. His government did plan to use the plague on your people.” Mir advised, giving him a small unsure smile.

     His eyes flickered down, his mind digesting what she just said. Japan had done at lot of terrible things-- not only to him but also to a lot of other countries. But so did he. The more he thought about it, the more he decided to clear the slate. Have a fresh start. Her plan didn’t sound bad at all. Maybe it was time to move on and finally bury the hatchet. He found himself matching her smile as he met her gaze. “Sounds like a plan. Do you think he'll ever forgive me?”

     Raising a brow at him, she met his stare, her smile turning braver. "There's only one way to find out." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) By 1944, though the Allies had seized, bypassed, & bombarded many of the Japanese bases, their efforts did not succeed in persuading the Japanese to surrender.  
> 2) The Japanese government refused surrender demands as specifically outlined in the Potsdam Declaration. With the invasion of mainland Japan imminent, Truman approved the schedule for dropping the 2 available bombs. Truman always said that attacking Japan with atomic bombs saved many lives on both sides; military estimates for the invasion of mainland Japan were that it could take a year and result in 250,000 to 500,000 U.S. casualties. Hiroshima was bombed on Aug. 6, and Nagasaki 3 days later  
> 3) The Soviet Union declared war on Japan on Aug. 9 and invaded Manchuria. Japan agreed to surrender the following day.  
> 4) Supporters of Truman's decision argue that, given the strong Japanese defense of the outlying islands, the bombings saved hundreds of thousands of lives that would have been lost invading mainland Japan. Critics have argued that the use of nuclear weapons was unnecessary, given that conventional tactics such as firebombing and a naval blockade might have induced Japan's surrender without the need for such weapons. Truman strongly defended himself in his memoirs in 1955–56, stating that many lives could have been lost had the U.S. invaded mainland Japan without the atomic bombs. In 1963, he stood by his decision, telling a journalist that "it was done to save 125,000 youngsters on the U.S. side and 125,000 on the Japanese side from getting killed and that is what it did. It probably also saved a half million youngsters on both sides from being maimed for life.  
> 4) The imminent threat of Soviet invasion of the home islands of Japan was a significant factor for some internal parties in the Japanese decision to surrender to the US and gain some protection, rather than face simultaneous Soviet invasion as well as defeat by the US.  
> 5) Likewise, the superior numbers of the armies of the Soviet Union in Europe was a factor in the US decision to demonstrate the use of atomic weapons to the USSR, just as the Allied victory in Europe was evolving into division of Germany and Berlin, the division of Europe with the Iron Curtain and the subsequent Cold War.  
> 6) Potsdam Declaration  
> The Japanese Cabinet Secretary wanted to accept the terms but the Foreign Minister felt it was vague concerning the eventual form of government for Japan, disarmament, and the fate of accused war criminals, and still had hope that the Soviet Union would agree to mediate negotiations with the Western Allies to obtain clarifications and revisions of the declaration's terms. He advised the Japanese emperor to treat the declaration with the utmost circumspection, but that a reply should be postponed until the Soviet response to the Japanese request to mediate peace. Emperor Hirohito stated that the declaration was "acceptable in principle".  
> Some members of the Supreme Council opposed while others accepted but agreed for more clarification.  
> 7) At a press conference with the Japanese press in Tokyo, they stated that the Japanese policy towards the declaration would be one of mokusatsu, which the United States interpreted to mean "to kill with silence", in other words "to ignore", leading to a swift decision by the Allies to carry out the threat of destruction. However, the word can also mean "no comment", as it was apparently intended in this case to mean.  
> President Truman and his advisers had mulled over the meaning of mokusatsu before making a decision. 1 meaning was a matter of politeness among the upper classes. An unacceptable offer is made, and the other person, not wanting to offend the speaker, pretends not to have heard. The other person realizes his mistake, and makes a better offer. The other meaning is to view with silent contempt. The White House decided that the second meaning was intended.  
> 7) For months, the U.S. had warned civilians of potential air raids by dropping more than 63 million leaflets across Japan. The people regarded the leaflet messages as truthful, with many choosing to leave major cities. The leaflets caused such concern that the gov't. ordered the arrest of anyone caught in possession of a leaflet.  
> 8) The reason the Japanese didn't surrender after the Hiroshima because the gov't. believed no more than 1 / 2 additional bombs could be readied, so they decided to endure the remaining attacks. Americans intercepted the cabinet's messages.  
> 9) Operation Cherry Blossoms at Night of 1945 is the biological warfare plan of Japan that was vetoed


	7. Happy Days

**_July 4, 2045_ **

  


     Mira never thought her smile could get any bigger as she hurried down the hallway that lead to Alfred’s room, clutching the small paper bag to her chest. Today marks America’s two hundred sixty-ninth birthday and she was giddy to see the look on his face when he saw what she got him.

     Reaching his door, she situated herself right in front of it as the automated scanner installed hummed to life. Small beams of green light immediately scanned her entire form before they retracted back as quickly as they came. She heard a few small clicks before a video of her materialized on the small glass panel on the door. Her human name appearing above it in bold capital letters. Hearing muffled footsteps coming from the inside, she immediately perked up. Excitement bubbled up inside her as the sounds drew nearer. At last, the door slid open to reveal Alfred with his signature goofy grin plastered all over his face.

     “Happy Birthday, Alfred!” She grinned as she spread her arms wide to give him a hug.

     She watched as his smile grew wider before she felt his arms wrap around her. She was so small, her face only fell to the height of his chest. From where her head nestled, she felt his chest reverberate with laughter.

     “Thanks, Mir!”

     Letting go of each other, she studied him. He was dressed casually in a simple white collared shirt tucked into a pair of light brown pants. Her eyes traveled back to his face only to see his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses as he watched her study him. Feeling flustered that he caught her staring, she tried to change topic.

     “Here,” she said as she handed him his present, “I got you something.”

     “Sweet! What is it?” He exclaims giddily as he rummaged his hand inside the bag.

     Pulling out a small black square box, he was just about to open it when a voice called out from behind them. 

     “Mr. Jones, Sir! “ 

     Turning their heads, they watched as one of the assistants hurried down towards them.

     “So sorry to interrupt, Sir,” She said as she finally reached them.

     “It’s no big deal.” Alfred reassured her. “What is it?”

     “We have the car ready to take you to New York, Sir. We must be leaving immediately to get to the celebration on time.”

     “Oh right—just give me a sec, will ya?” Alfred asked while holding his pointer finger up.

     “Of course, Sir.” The woman nodded before walking back the way she came from.

     Turning to look back at her, Alfred’s smile turned sheepish. Mir found herself nodding her head in understanding while trying to hide her dismay that the earlier hype was slowly diminishing.

     “It’s okay. You can open it later. You need to go. They need you.” She said, giving him a reassuring smile.

     “Sorry. Let me just tuck this inside my room for safekeeping.” Alfred said before briefly ducking back inside to place the gift on his nightstand. Returning to her, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll come see you later, okay?”

     “Yeah, sure.” She nods at him. “Have a safe trip.” She called out after him as he made his way out of the hall.

     “Thanks.” He said, raising a hand at her before disappearing behind a bend.  
     

     Placing the bowl of chips on the table, she settled herself down on the couch right next to Alfred. Taking the cushion behind her, she placed it leisurely on her lap before leaning back for comfort.

     “Matt! Come on! We’re about to watch the movie.” Alfred yelled out from behind his shoulder.

     Smiling, she turned her head to gaze behind them. Finally, Matthew came walking out, carrying a big bowl of popcorn on one hand and his polar bear, Kuma on his other.

     “Okay, okay. I’m here.” He said as he rounded the corner of the couch before sitting next to his brother.

     “Shit, man. They said this film is one of the scariest movies of the year.” Alfred said as he clutched the cushion closer to his chest.

     “Don’t they say that about every horror movie that comes on screen?” She chuckles.

     “Well, we’re sure to find out, eh?” Matthew said as he plucked some of the popcorn from the bowl and into his mouth.

     “Ready?” Alfred asks, as he raised his hand up in the air.

     They both replied their consents. They watched as Alfred snapped his fingers, the sound loud and clear in the room. The audio sensors quickly detect the signal, dimming the lights as a result. 

     “ _Exa_ , please play the movie _Archangel_.” Alfred requested to the advanced computerized artificial intelligence system installed specifically for the room.

     At the command, a computer generated voice spoke. “Playing requested movie.”

     They watched as the black screen turned to life, the movie officially starting. Twenty minutes into it, and she could feel Alfred trembling next to her. From the corner of her eyes, she watched as he clutched the cushion tightly, smothering the lower half of his face into it as he stared wide eyed at the large screen. Snickering, she couldn’t help but tease him.

     “Aw, do you want me to hold your hand?” She mocked, using a voice someone would use on children.

     Turning his head to face her, Alfred met her with wide blue eyes. “Yes please.” He answered back in a small voice.

     The smile immediately dropped from her face. She never expected he would take her joke seriously. “There is no way in hell I’m holding your hand.” She said in a deadpan manner as she shook her head at him.

     “You already offered Mir so you might as well!” Alfred demanded. Though he said it through a whisper, his voice carried loudly throughout the room.

     “What?! No!” She couldn’t help but match his volume.

     “Shh! You guys were trying to watch a movie here!” Matthew complained from where he was seated, his eyes glued towards the screen.

     Embarrassed at her lack of manners, she tried to placate the situation. In short, she needed to shut Alfred up. “Okay, okay.” She whispered, trying to calm him down as he continued his whimpering. Refusing to meet his gaze and with great reluctance, she held out a hand towards him, a silent gesture for him to take. But to her shock, Alfred grabbed her entire arm instead, linking their arms together so he could practically glue himself to her side. 

     “Alfred, I said hand. Not arm. Hand.” She protested with mild annoyance.

     “Please?” He asked, hiding his face by pressing it into her shoulder. She studied him for a second before finally sighing in resignation, her shoulders drooping in defeat.  
In a small voice, she finally consented. “Okay.” She said as she patted his head gently. Usually she wouldn’t have agreed, not really the touchy-feely kind of girl but since they were friends, she’ll let this slide. Just this once.  


    

     Finally, they finished the movie with no other distractions or interruptions aside from a few high pitched screams and jumps courtesy of Alfred. Standing up, she stretched her arms over her head. A thought suddenly wedged itself into her mind.

     “Matthew, wait.” She said as she crouched down beside the sofa to get the wrapped package. 

     “What is it?” He asked curiously as she hurried to his side.

     Extending the large parcel to him with a smile, she replied. “I was supposed to send this to you for your birthday but when I found out you were coming, I thought it would be best to give it to you in person. Here, belated happy birthday, Mattie.”

     His eyes went round as he gaped at her before looking down at the present. For a few seconds, he just stayed like that as if he were frozen. 

     “Matt?” She called out in concern.

     At the sound of his name, he shook his head as if to shake himself out of his stupor. A sweet smile immediately spread across his face. “Thank you, Mir. Gosh I thought you forgot.”

     Cocking her head to the side at his words, she gave him a puzzled look. “Why would I forget? You’re my friend, of course I’ll remember.” She gave him a friendly smile. Inside though, she was secretly pained by the thought that a sweet nice guy like Matt would think nobody would remember his own birthday. Seriously how can anyone forget him? He was too cute and precious for this world!

     “Aw, thank you, Mir.” He says as he wrapped a hand around her shoulders, drawing her into a hug.

     Smiling, she returned the gesture, patting his back gently. “I wanted to surprise you.”

     “Well you did.” He replied with a laugh as they finally let go of each other.

     Glancing back down at the gift, Matthew’s eyes shone with excitement. Giggling, she nodded her head at him in encouragement. “Go ahead. Open it.”

     With a huge grin on his face, he tore the white wrapper printed with red maple leaves off. She watched him nervously as he stared at the large rectangular object in his hands with large eyes.

     Feeling worried at his lack of response, she spoke. “Is it okay?”

     “Okay? It’s amazing! Did you paint this yourself?” He exclaimed as he pointed at the painting. It was a portrait of a lake with a distinctive shade of turquoise blue waters nestled between tall snow-capped mountains and evergreen trees. It was a picturesque scene, one that exuded serenity.

     “Yeah,” She replied as she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling conscious at the praise. “I wanted to give you something meaningful and personal and not just something I bought somewhere.” After a moment, she added. “Do you like it?”

     “I love it, Mir. Thank you!” He said with a grateful smile, drawing her in for another hug.

     “Aw, you’re most welcome, Matt.” She replied happily.

     Letting go of each other, he studied the painting excitedly. “It’s Lake Moraine, isn’t it?”

     “Yeah.” She nodded eagerly, happy at the thought that he was able to recognize the place depicted on the portrait. “It was one of the first places you brought me to when I first visited your home.” 

     His gaze immediately softens at her answer. “I can’t believe you remember.” He says with a soft tone.

     “Of course I remember silly,” She said as they gazed at each other with gentle smiles. Their moment was suddenly ruined by a loud, obnoxious laughter erupting from the other nation they had unknowingly left out.

     “It’s time for the hero to open his present!” Alfred yelled as he brought out the black box that contained his birthday gift.

     Shaking her head at Alfred’s childish antics, they turned around to face him as he eagerly opened the small black box in his hand.

     “Whoa! This is so cool!” He gushed as he took the object from where it was nestled. Between his fingers nestled a small arrowhead pendant with a black leather cord. 

     “Careful.” She raised a hand in caution at Alfred. “That’s a legit artifact of my country and that arrowhead is still wickedly sharp.”

     “Awesome.” Alfred gasped as he studied the necklace with excitement. The pendant was mostly made out of copper with a small onyx in the shape of a triangle at the center.

     “Well you did say you were into archaeology so...” She said as a corner of her lips tilted up into a crooked smile.

     “Aw thanks, Mir. You really are the gift giving master.” He said with a grin.

     Smiling at the compliment, she cocked a brow at him before replying cheekily. “Yeah you could say that again.”  


  


**_July 10, 2045_**  
     

     “Here’s the information you wanted me to steal.” She said as she handed the document on top of the polished wooden desk, making sure to keep her demeanour professional.

     From behind his desk, President Zachary Davis paused from signing a document. Instead, he stared at her with wide eyes before they quickly changed into one of awe and admiration. 

     “That was fast. Didn’t even take two weeks.” Smiling, he took the document in his hands, opening it before he read the contents hungrily. 

     Nodding his head in approval, he stood patting her shoulder. “Thank you, Mirava. I knew I could count on you.” His smile turning snakelike.

     Mira found herself nodding her head just to be civil when in truth she wanted to leave her boss’s office as soon as possible. Davis may appear grateful and all, but she could tell he was fake as his wife’s breasts. She had lived long enough, seen plenty of people walk in and walk out of her life to know when one was pulling a lot of crap just to further their hidden agendas. She had seen it all and with her long string of leaders, it was easy to pick on who were the rotten ones from the patch. And Davis wasn’t the worst but he was making good progress on being the one. He kept sending her on trips to spy on people he felt were a threat to his administration and steal information from other countries’ various sectors from matters of science and technology to drug control. How this would benefit their nations, that was what she was still trying to piece. If he was being all sneaky and shady about it, it couldn’t be for anything good. From the beginning, she was reluctant to give him any sort of information that was potentially dangerous but orders were orders. She’ll play along for now but should things go awry and he’d start to use that information for his own gains, well she had a few aces up her sleeve as well. 

     “May I leave now, Sir?” she asked, keeping the expression on her face flat.

     He nodded as he sat back down. “Go ahead.” He said, flashing her a grin.

     Sparing herself from another moment alone with the snake, she left his office. She didn’t know if Davis caught up to her frostiness towards him. He probably did but was too smart to call her out on it. Shaking her head, she felt the need to unwind and kicked out any more thoughts of her boss from her mind.

     She was just walking towards the door to her room when a heavy arm curled around shoulder all of a sudden.

     “Mir!” Alfred exclaimed, his face lit up with happiness.

     Immediately, the dark heavy cloud of exhaustion evaporated from her at seeing him. Not that she would ever tell him that. She’d rather set herself on fire.

     “Hey.” She greeted back, her face automatically scrunching up to a look of annoyance out of habit every time he was around.

     “I’m glad you’re back. How was work?” He said, hardly bothered by the look she was giving him as he sipped his can of coke. Typical Alfred. Hardly anything could faze him. Except ghosts.

     She couldn’t help but eye the carbonated drink, trying not to let her disapproval show. She knew no matter how much she tried to convince him, he wouldn’t budge. She had learned through their years together that Alfred didn’t respond well to criticism, especially about his weight and diet. She mustered a smile as she let the small issue go. It was his life anyway—he should do whatever he wanted with it. 

     “It was okay. Nothing too dangerous.” She replied, keeping her answer vague. Alfred didn’t need to know the full details of her most recent mission. There was absolutely no time where her job was not dangerous. And she was certain Alfred knew that too.

     If he caught her lying, he didn’t let it show as he nodded attentively at her answer. “Listen, you should change. We’re going out!”

     She cocked her head to the side, puzzled. “Why?”

     His brows rose as he eyed her dubiously. “Do we need a reason to hang out?”

     She didn’t need time to think it over. “No, I guess not.”

     He grinned at her reply. “Get dressed. I’ll meet you by the car.” And with that, he left her alone.

     Smiling, she ducked into her room to change from her dark blue trouser suit and loose white silk top to a plain blue denim dress paired with a white cardigan and nude flats. Taking her phone and a small brown leather purse with her wallet already inside, she made her way out.

     Stepping outside, the shiny black car was already parked near the entrance. Alfred was leaning against it, by the driver’s seat. Hearing her footsteps, his head whipped around to face her, his lips turning into a smile when suddenly he froze, staring at her with his mouth slightly agape.

     Finally reaching the door to the front passenger seat, she raised a brow at him. “What?”

     As if he realized he was caught staring, he quickly snapped his mouth shut. “Nothing.”

     She let out a small huff of laughter at the lie. “Right,” She said in a tone that conveyed she didn’t believe him a single bit, nodding her head as she opened the door.  
Sinking into the soft leather seat, she strapped her seatbelt on as Alfred entered the car. Turning the ignition on, Alfred manoeuvred the car out of the White House premises and into the open.  
  


     Alfred took her to a restaurant decorated like a classical American diner back in its heyday during the 1950’s. With its black and white checkered tile floor, the tiffany blue leather seats that lined each booth, and the polished cherry red counter that separated the dining area from the kitchen. Classical vintage posters of cars, soft drinks, and cigarettes mingled with framed posters of famous celebrities such as Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, and James Dean. The collage adorned most of the walls, except for the one wall at the back that was decked with shiny black vinyl records. Bright neon signs added a quirky and hip vibe as music flitted through the air, courtesy of the jukebox placed on the corner.  
Nostalgia immediately hit her as she continued to scan the place. It didn’t seem so long ago when Alfred would take her out of work to enjoy some milkshake in a nearby diner. Though tension and war were still rampant in most parts of the planet at that time, they would always find time to get together for some milkshake and fries. For a time, such moments had been their safety bubble—a small place to forget.

     “Mir?” Alfred’s voice pulled her out of memory lane and back to Earth.

     Giving her head a quick shake, she gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry? I didn’t catch that.” 

     “I said what do you like.” Alfred grinned across from her. A bright red menu between his hands. 

     “Oh, um—just a bacon cheeseburger with some fries and a Cherry Vanilla milkshake please.” She said to the waitress who jutted her order down on her notepad.

     “I’ll have some Steak Fingers with fries and onion rings, two slices of apple pie and a Peanut Butter-Brownie milkshake.” Alfred said as he handed both their menus to the waitress.

     “So Alfred,” She started to say as the waitress left with their order. “I just saw the trailer for Nemesis: Annihilation. Are you excited?” She asked, referring to the video game series they had both been obsessed about.

     “Yup! Get ready coz I’m going to kick your butt!” He proclaimed as he flashed her an arrogant smirk.

     “Oh really?” She raised a brow at him cheekily. “Last time I checked I was beating your ass on Nemesis: Infinite.”

     Alfred gasped out loud at her insinuation. “Okay! That’s it! You’ve really poked the dragon this time. Madam, I demand satisfaction!”

     Mir couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics. Alfred could be such a drama queen sometimes. Sometimes she wondered how they were even friends. She was impatient, choleric and an excessive planner. He was easygoing, cheerful, and an inexhaustible ball of energy. They were total opposites! How they were able to become steadfast friends and keep their friendship was beyond her. But in a way, she was glad for their friendship. Really glad. 

     She decided to jump on board with his antics. “What? Are we gonna duel or something?”

     With a proud glint in his eyes, he answered just in time for the waitress to come back with their food. “Yes we are. Eat up quick. We’re going somewhere.”  
  
     

     After they finished eating, Alfred took her to a nearby park. She had already lost count of the number of times she had asked Alfred about his plans but he was keeping mum. She couldn’t help but purse her lips at this. She never liked being kept in the dark. Staring at the back of his head, she couldn’t help but think up random scenarios on what his plans may be but to be honest there were a lot, seeing as Alfred liked to do things in a chaotic and random manner. Shaking her head, she resolved herself to just follow his lead as he took her deeper into the park. Well whatever it was he was planning, she hoped it was anything but extreme. But knowing Alfred, she knew he lived for the stuff. Shifting her gaze down, she didn’t notice Alfred had already stopped until her head bumped on his back.

     “Oops, sorry.” The apology quickly left her lips as she rubbed a hand on her forehead.

     Alfred did not seem to have the least bit of care as he turned around to face her, a large grin plastered on his face. “We’re here. Are you ready for the challenge?”

     Her nose immediately scrunched up in displeasure. “What challenge?”

     Alfred’s smirk turned sly as he pointed a finger behind him. “See those monkey bars?”

     Her eyes quickly followed where he was pointing. True as he said, there stood a yellow monkey bar close to a large tree. 

     “Yeah?” She asked, not really sure where he was going with this.

     “Well the challenge is to do the planking exercise with your hands holding unto the monkey bar while your feet are pressed into the tree. The person who lasts the longest wins.”

     She stared at him like he grew another head. “What?”

     “It’s a new kind of challenge. I’ve seen some people doing it online.” Alfred quickly explained.

     She couldn’t help but shake her head in exasperation. “Just when I thought there is a limit to the number of stupid things mankind can do, they go ahead and prove me wrong.”

     “Aw come on, Mir. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Alfred insisted with a pout.

     “No! I’m not doing something so stupid. And besides it’s totally unfair. You have the advantage what with you being so monstrously strong.” She said as she crossed her arms.

     She watched as Alfred lips stretched into a smug smile. 

     “Thanks.”

     She glared at him. “It wasn’t supposed to be a compliment.”

     Rolling his eyes, Alfred marched to the monkey bars. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Alfred, you can’t be serious!”

     “Watch and learn, Mir!” He shouted back before grabbing unto the monkey bars. He was tall enough that his feet never left the ground to reach the bar. Making sure his grip was steady, he slowly lifted his leg back towards the tree. Planting the sole of his shoe firmly against the trunk, Alfred gritted his teeth as he slowly raised his other leg back, his entire body now stretching diagonally between the tree and the monkey bars.

     She watched in mute suspense as his feet started to inch farther up the tree, one step at a time. Finally, his legs and feet were now at the same height as his arms. Alfred’s brows wrinkled in concentration while he gritted his teeth. She did not know how much time has passed but Alfred’s hands were starting to shake from physical exertion.

     “Okay, Alfred. You’ve proven you’re point. You can stop now.” She tried to coax him before he could end up hurting himself.

     “What? No. Look I can do this!” Alfred refused.

     “Alfred, please come down.”

     “Wait, look I can go higher!” Alfred exclaimed as he lifted his leg higher against the tree.

     “No—Alfred, that’s a bad idea.”

     He ignored her as he planted his other foot higher against the tree.

     “I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD!” He yelled happily before descending into a fit of laughter. 

     “Alfred, get down now!”

     His only answer was more of his obnoxious laughter. He raised his foot again, his body now turning into a handstand position between the tree and the monkey bars. She sucked in a breath at his dangerous position. For a few seconds, he kept his stance, not wavering a single bit.

     “WOOHOO, I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD! I’M THE---!” He cried out again in triumph raising his foot again not knowing what came next. His foot met nothing but air and the next thing they knew was that suddenly, his body was doing a cartwheel on top of the monkey bars.

     She felt her heart stop, her eyes almost bulging out of her sockets as she screamed out in horror. “ALFRED!”

     “AHHHHHHHHHH!” Alfred’s scream was one out of pure terror.

     She watched with her mouth agape as Alfred finally fell over the other side of the monkey bars, his hands clinging for dear life on the metal.

     Her feet were moving and before she knew it, she was already at his side. 

     “Alfred!”

     Her eyed quickly roamed his figure, looking for signs of damage. She immediately noted that his face had turned ashen, and his body was as stiff as a board. His scream was now replaced by hysterical laughter. Aside from the small cut on the side of his forehead that needed her inspection immediately, nothing seemed broken.

    “Alfred, let go of the bars.”

     He continued laughing before finally he let go of his stiff grip, landing on his rear with a loud thump on the soft sand.

     “Alfred, snap out of it!” She cried out as she knelt down next to him, inspecting the wound. To her utmost relief, it was shallow and not anything fatal. Alfred hysterical laughter was now replaced by wheezes and sobs of relief.

     “Oh my--- I thought I was gonna die!” Alfred said between wheezes.

     “You idiot! You almost gave me a heart attack!” She yelled as she shoved his shoulder hard, his body leaning towards the sand.

     He was too consumed by laughter to raise his body up again.

     “It’s not funny, Alfred. Stop laughing!” She couldn’t help but snap at him.

     “Sorry, sorry.”

     She sighed in exasperation at him. Sometimes she felt like she was the older one between the two of them. Alfred could be such a handful sometimes. She watched silently as Alfred raised a hand to touch the wound on his head and wince. 

     “Don’t touch it!” She grabbed his wrist.

     Alfred was quick to obey which was a relief. 

“Stay here. I’ll get you something for your cut.”

     “Okay!” Alfred complied.

     Jogging back down towards the path, she left Alfred to find a drugstore. 

     A few minutes later and she was back, bringing a small pack of band aids, a small pack of cotton balls, and a bottle of antiseptic. Kneeling next to Alfred, she poured a few drops of the antiseptic on the cotton. Touching Alfred’s forehead, she leaned in close. “Stay still.”

     She gently dabbed at his wounds, carefully avoiding his wide, blue-eyed gaze. The whole time, she was muttering complaints. “Why do I always end up cleaning the mess your make, huh? It’s like every time we’re together, somehow I always end up patching you up.”

     He gave out a small, hearty laugh. “Aw you know you love me.”

     “In your dreams, moron.” She scoffed while carefully placing the band aid on top of the wound.

     Again, he laughed probably knowing she didn’t mean the insult at all. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the corner of her lips from tilting up. Suddenly, the sound of her phone ringing shattered the merry atmosphere.

     Grabbing her phone from her purse, she stood up, while offering a hand to Alfred. Smiling gratefully, he took her hand. Using minimal strength, she pulled him up as she answered the phone.

     “Hello?”

     “Mirava, where are you?” The voice of Marcos Herrera, Governor of Asteria and the head of her government spoke through the phone.

     “I’m with Alfred. Why?”

     “We need you back here in Caranza as soon as possible. There are some things I want you to look into.” He answered, his tone clipped.

     “All right. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

     “Good. I’ll see you later.”

     “Yeah.” She replied before ending the call. 

     “Herrera wanted you back?” Alfred cocked a brow at her.

     “Yeah. He says he needed me back in Caranza as soon as possible.”

     “Okay, let’s get going then.”

     She nods as they started back down the path. “I have to call John. Get him to ready the private jet.”  
  
     

     After making the phone call, Alfred popped in a question as they walked. “So are you going straight to the airport or are you going to drop by the White House first?”

     “Airport, I guess.” She answered, her eyes down the road. “I’ve been gone for too long. They need me.” Her gaze shifted to her side to meet his.

     “Oh, okay cool.” Alfred nodded thoughtfully. “I can drive you there.” He offered.

     “No, it’s okay Alfred. I already asked Leon to come pick me up by the park. He’s on his way.”

     “I see.” Alfred said, trying to hide his disappointment.

     They finally reached the road. A black car already parked in front of them, a dark haired man wearing a dark suit standing next to it. Leon had arrived. 

     “Well, this was fun,” She said as she turned to face Alfred. 

     “Yeah.”

     “Okay.” She nods. “Bye, Alfred.”

     “Bye, Mir.”

     She took a step towards the vehicle but was suddenly yanked back. “What? No hugs?” Alfred teased, flashing her a grin.

     “No way.” Her lips curled up in disgust.

     He laughed. “Just kidding, squirt.” He said as he mussed her hair up. 

     “Alfred.” She scowled at him as she freed herself from his clutches, trying to fix her hair. “You’re a jerk, you know that right?” She grumbled as she made her way back towards the car, leaving the sound of Alfred’s obnoxious laughter behind. 

     But before she could enter, she felt another tug on her wrist. Exasperated, she whirled back around to face him. "What?!" 

     Expecting more jokes, she was surprised to see a gentle smile on his face. "Take care of yourself, Mir." 

     Immediately, she felt her rough outer shell melt a little. "Yeah, you too. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, Alfred." She said, her tone gentle. 

     HIs smile grew at her reply. "What? No insults?" He teased. "No name calling?" He let out a laugh. "Oh my, seems like my cool charms must be working on you, Mir." 

     Immediately, the irritation was back on her face. "Shut up, you dummy!" And with that she stalked back towards the car, hiding the fact that the corner of her lips were tugging upwards. 

     Entering the vehicle, she watched through the dark window as the car slowly pulled away, leaving Alfred behind as he raised a hand in farewell. 

     Unbeknownst to the two, a man seated on a chair of a nearby cafe lifts up his hidden camera to take another photo of the scene.


	8. Embers

**_July 12, 2045  
Moscow, Russia_ **

 

     Ivan stared at the messy pile occupying the top of his desk with his mind reeling. Resting his chin on his knuckles, he leaned back on his seat as his mind tried to piece the puzzles all together. With careful scrutiny, his eyes studied the numerous photos of his nemesis and the girl he never would have thought he’d ever witness to lay eyes on again

     He thought she was dead. She was supposed to be dead. He saw her body with his own eyes at the morgue after it was retrieved from the river. Supposedly, she had drowned due to the strong, unforgiving currents of the Moskva. The rain was pouring violently that night. If she survived the fall, it would take another miracle for her to navigate the treacherous currents of the river without any light too guide her way. She couldn’t have survived.

     But staring at the photographs, the way she aimed that sweet smile at Alfred F. Jones made his blood boil. He should’ve known that fate would play such a trick on him. After all, he always felt like it was picking on him. But now he wasn’t certain if he should be pleased or infuriated at the turn of events. Because like it or not, he was duped and made the fool by the two and he never liked being made the laughingstock. But for once, fate was on his side, having brought him this wonderful piece of information.

     Picking the photo up, he studied her face. She remained youthful and was still as beautiful as he remembered. At first glance, she seemed like a nice, sweet girl-- completely harmless. He should have known that all that beauty was used to conceal the devil inside. Those dark brown eyes of hers were sparkling with mirth as they gazed on the American. He remembered those dark eyes so well. They had stared at him, delved right into his soul, and pierced him on the spot right before she fell. These were the very same pair of eyes that haunted and plagued him for years. He remembered seeing something in those eyes, something that seemed to unravel a thread within him. Whatever he saw, it was only there for a second but it felt like the longest second he ever experienced, if that was even possible. Her eyes held a sort of promise. She would fight until the end. And fight she did for she survived. 

     She clearly wasn’t human, that he was certain. His first assumption was right. When he first laid eyes on her, he was immediately drawn to her. She had that kind of air around her that clearly wasn’t mortal but was more akin to someone like him, a personification of a country. At first he wasn’t certain. He didn’t remember seeing her before. If she was a country, she was there for a special reason. And that was the main reason he had watched over her like a hawk all night long. Like a switch turning on in the back of his mind, the wheels of time took him back down memory lane, at the night of the victory celebration.

     He was standing at the outskirts of the ballroom. Standing close to him was the boy, Raivis, who was trembling so much that his teeth were chattering so loud, it grated his ears.

     “Would you stop trembling?!” He scolded the young nation, as he clutched his shoulders tightly with his hands, trying to stop him from shaking so much.

     “I’m so—I’m so sorry, Mr. Russia. I’ll— I’ll try.” The Latvian was shaking so bad, even his speech was affected.

     Ivan couldn’t help but narrow his eyes sternly at the boy. “We’re at a celebration.” He reminded. “You should be happy... Unless you don’t want to be here, Raivis?” His tone dropped at the question.

     He watched as the boy vigorously shook his head no. “Of course not, Mr. Russia!” His voice came out as a squeak. “I—I want to be here. There’s no other place I’d rather be.”

     Ivan studied the boy as he forced a smile on his face. Though it hardly helped to conceal the huge fear in his eyes. Squeezing the Latvian’s shoulders one more time in warning, he spoke. “Then act like it.”

     Letting go of his grip, he stood back. “Go join your friends.” He ordered, referring to Estonia and Lithuania.

     Nodding his head eagerly, Ivan watched as Raivis fled from his sight in a hurry. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he stepped out of the shadows, making his way back into the ballroom. On the way, people were milling about, some congratulating him on his victory against the Germans. He accepted the praise with a smile and a word of thanks before continuing on his way to find his boss. This would have been easier if the crowd wasn’t so thick. Being a large man, skirting around people and between tight spaces was not a thing he enjoyed. Finally, he broke free from the madness only to find himself near a small flight of stairs. Thankfully there were lesser people here. Scanning the room, he tried to find the leader of the Soviet Union. 

     Suddenly, his attention was drawn away by the sound of a woman’s laughter. It was light and sweet and just pure of joy—like a child’s. Turning his head around, completely abandoning his earlier task, he caught sight of a young girl, probably around sixteen or seventeen. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with youth and happiness. And although she tried to hide her laughter behind her hand, she couldn’t mask the corner of her lips from tilting up. Paired with that bright smile, she was a pretty little thing to behold. What he did not know at that time was that even pretty, little things can bite.

     She was walking arm in arm with a soldier, a lieutenant judging from his uniform. The two seemed very close. His curiosity piqued, he drew himself closer, studying her at a safe distance. She had olive toned skin and shiny dark brown hair that was almost black. She did not look Slavic at all. His eyes narrowed at the thought.

     The rest of the night, he couldn’t enjoy the festivities, having been too absorbed with watching the girl in the flattering green dress. The longer he studied her, the more he was able to pick up a few details about her. Though she was smiling and laughing with her friends, there was a hint of sadness behind her smile. For the amateur eyes, one wouldn’t have noticed but he was no stranger to that look. He’d seen it every time he looked into the mirror. He felt his mood darken at the gloomy topic. Shaking his head, his mind raced to find another one that did not depress him so. His focus was drawn to her eyes.

     Her eyes literally had a language of their own. Although he was far, they were fascinating to watch. For someone so young, she had eyes that could pierce into someone’s soul. They were deep, intense and focused. What must it feel like to be on the receiving end of that gaze? 

     As if to answer his question, he watched transfixed as the girl slowly turned her head, her brown gaze meeting his. Like wearing a second skin, his mask of neutrality never wavered even though he was caught staring by his own prey. He waited with anticipation on how she would respond next. He was told that his gaze can be unnerving. Would she flee or would she stay? For a moment, they just held each other’s gaze. To his curiosity, he felt pinned under her gaze, like she was looking right into his mind. 

     Whatever she was thinking, she kept her thoughts hidden well and the graceful smile on her lips never faltered as she returned her gaze to the man next to her. Shocking response for a human. Every time he gazed at a mortal with that emotionless expression of his, fear was the typical response. But this girl did not even bat an eyelash. _Interesting._

     When he finally cornered her by the marble pillars, having saved her from Vasily, he was both amazed and amused by the fire in her eyes. From the moment she stepped in to intervene against his ire on Vasily, he surmised that she was not the kind to be easily intimidated, strange for a human, especially for one so young. She had the kind of will that cannot be so easily swayed. When he had asked her to dance, he thought she would say no. But her answer took him by surprise. This one’s full of surprises, he thought as they made their way into the dance floor.

     As he drew her close and they started to sway with the music, he was able to see her more clearly now. Though her face was guarded, he could already guess what she was trying so desperately to hide. There was a reason why some people hardly ever smile or why they keep their faces blank. Usually some would link it to having a stoic personality while others would say that that person is not the type to wear his or her heart on one's sleeve. But sometimes it meant that a person had experienced something so bad-- so tragic, that it takes a while to get them to show any emotion because it was difficult to get them to lower their guard down again. They become guarded and secretive. Burying their sad, dark past behind them though it still weighs them heavily down. They try to hide it with a cold, unreadable exterior-- trying desperately to appear strong. He knew this because he was pretty much the same way, the only difference was that he hid his pain behind the shield of an empty smile. Looking at Katerina now, it was something quite familiar, it called out to him. Probably long years of pain, loneliness, and maybe a little bit of wisdom brought by suffering were trapped beneath her mask. To his growing fascination, it seems like he wasn’t the only one who was doing the appraisal as she met his stare bravely. Though she was tiny compared to him, it felt like he was the one caught beneath her stare. Such a sharp well-knowing gaze for a young girl.

     The sound of a door slamming shut from afar threw him back into the present. The puzzle was almost complete but there were still some questions that needed answers. Katerina— if that was her real name though he highly doubted it—was very much alive and kicking. There was no doubt about that. The real questions now were the ones pertaining to her real identity, what country she personified, and how come he never saw her at any world meetings, and most of all, what was her connection to Alfred Jones?

     He felt his brows furrow in confusion. All these questions and he still wasn’t sure where that left him. Should he seek retribution? Or let bygones be bygones? Drawing the photo closer, his gaze traveled down, remarking the way Jones was holding Katerina’s wrist in a tender manner. At the sight, he felt his other hand clench and a smirk tugging on his lips. Seems like he had already made up his mind. He will find her and when he did, he'll make her wish she had actually drowned in the river.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Supposedly, this chapter was going to be a part of Chapter 7 but I felt like it would be too long so I just made this part of the manuscript it's very own chapter. I know its short compared to the other chapters but I thought it was time to give Russia's POV. I hope you'll enjoy. Thanks for reading! Mwah!


	9. Rising Suspicions

_**August 17, 2045** _

     From where she stood, Mir slowly scanned the sparsely crowded and barely lit space, trying to find where her target was. Laughter and small bits of conversation lilted through the air, along with the soft music emanating from the speakers, matching the relaxed and casual aura from the people as they slowly unwind on a Friday night. 

     Finally, her eyes zeroed on the two men sitting on stools by the counter. Their matching hair color glinting gold from the ceiling lamps’ soft yellow glow. Taking a deep breath, she quickly made her way towards them. 

     “Hey.” She greeted Alfred as she reached them, leaning an arm on the smooth wooden surface of the counter. 

     Alfred’s gaze immediately swiveled around to meet hers. His eyes widened in surprise at seeing her. “Mir,” He said, twisting his body fully around completely forgetting his previous company. “What are you doing here?” 

     “You weren’t answering your phone. The boss sent me to look for you.” 

     She watched as Alfred’s brows wrinkled in confusion but before he could make any reply, a groan escaped from the other person beside him. The earlier conversation was forgotten as attention shifted to the drunken Englishman who was currently slumped against the counter while nursing a large mug of beer. 

     Mir felt her forehead crease in concern. “Is he all right?” 

     This was the first time she saw Arthur Kirkland up close. She always watched him from afar when he came for visits at Alfred’s home. She remembered always seeing him as impeccably dressed, embodying the air of a true English gentleman. Seeing him now, muttering incoherent words with his cheeks stained red from intoxication, she decided there was more to the Brit than meets the eye. 

     “Yeah he always gets like this when he’s had too much to drink.” Alfred says with a dismissive tone as he clapped the Brit on the back. 

     “Well we can’t just leave him here,” She said as she took another peek at the Brit before straightening herself from the counter. “But the boss did say he needed you back as fast as possible. He says it’s urgent.” 

     Alfred nodded as he paid their tab. “I have an idea.” 

     “What?” 

     “Why don’t you take him back to his hotel?” Alfred suggested, tucking his wallet back inside his jacket. 

     “What?! Are you insane?” Her mouth twisted in displeasure. This was a bad idea. She was bound by contract to limit contact with other nations. The current number of nations who knew about her status as a country was fewer than the number of fingers on her hand. 

     “Please? I’ll owe you.” Alfred begged, his tone hopeful. 

     She pursed her lips in annoyance but was too tired to argue. “Fine.” 

     She narrowed her eyes at Alfred as he hoisted Arthur up on his feet, slinging the Brit’s arm around his shoulders. “Where’s he staying at?” 

     They started towards the exit. “He’s staying at the Obelisk Hotel. Room 318.” 

     When they got out, the first thing she did was to hail a cab. They waited patiently for the taxi to park in front of them. Opening the door to the backseat, she stepped aside as Alfred deftly slid his drunken friend inside. After making sure that Arthur was positioned comfortably on the leather seats, Alfred turned back to face her. 

     “All right. You should get going,” She said to him as she was about to enter the car. 

     “Okay. I’ll see you back home, Mir.” 

     She nodded before sitting down on the smooth leather seat. “Obelisk Hotel, please.” 

     The car slowly pulled out and into the highway, leaving Alfred behind. 

     Reaching the hotel, she paid the cab driver before towing the wasted Brit inside. Apparently, Kirkland had passed out during the entire ride. Struggling under his entire weight, she gave up and asked for assistance from a nearby porter. 

     Once they stepped out of the elevators, she pulled out England’s hotel key card from her pocket and inserted it on the slot when they reached his door. She had taken it from him during the ride, too drunk to notice her patting and searching his pockets for it. 

     Once it was unlocked, she opened the door wide for the porter who had Kirkland’s arm slung around his shoulders. 

     “Just place him on the bed.” She said as she closed the door behind them. She strode quickly after them so she could pull the duvet back from the bed, allowing the porter to lay the drunken Englishman unto the bed. 

     After placing Arthur on the bed, she quickly followed the porter out. Giving him his tip for the trouble, she thanked him before closing the door. 

     Returning to the bedroom, she quickly set to work on the sleeping country by removing his shoes and his suit jacket. After folding his jacket neatly on top of a nearby chair, she went to the pantry to get a bottle of water. Coming back to the bedroom, she placed the bottle on top of the nightstand along with two Tylenols she had found in her purse seeing as she was no stranger to hangovers and knew from experience how much of a bitch they were. 

     Returning to Kirkland’s side, she gently tucked him under the covers. Finally finished, she studied him, searching for any more errands she could do for him. Seeing no other tasks, she straightened herself up with a sigh. Placing his hotel key card next to the bottle of water and pills, she quietly left the room, leaving the other country to rest and to sleep his alcohol off. 

     After calling for a driver to take her back to the White House, she waited patiently at the lavish lobby of the hotel for him to come pick her up. Sitting down on a settee, she was scanning her phone to pass the time when she felts eyes on her. 

     Her body automatically tensed but years of practice kept her composure intact. Casually, she threw her head back, combing her hair back with her fingers as is if she was fixing the dark strands when in fact her eyes were scanning the place for the culprit. 

     This wasn’t anything new. She had been a spy for such a very long time, the feeling of being watched was almost an everyday occurrence. At first, when she was still a newbie at the field, she thought her paranoia might have played a part but overtime, she had learned to trust her senses. Her paranoia mellowed down a bit through the years but recently, she felt more eyes on her than usual. 

     Finishing her headcount of the people nearby, she noted that there were at least six people occupying the lobby, herself excluded. There was the receptionist standing behind the desk, a telephone pressed to her ear. A porter waiting by the elevators and four hotel guests, two males and two females seated on the sofas like her. One pair was obviously a couple, judging by their close proximities and the other two were lost in their own business. One man was busy at reading his newspaper while the other woman was rummaging her purse, probably searching for something. 

     Finishing with her hair, she let her shoulders drop while leaning heavily against the expensive settee, putting the air of someone who was bored. Lazily, she let out a silent yawn. Trying not to let her suspicion show, she scanned the room as if looking for something entertaining when in truth, she was watching everyone’s reaction. No one yawned. 

_Okay then._

     She proceeded to the backup plan. Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, she dropped her head down as she studied the time on her wristwatch. Watching through the corner of her eyes, she waited patiently for the reaction she was hoping. Finally, her eyes focused on the couple as the man stopped to check the time on his wristwatch, his female companion following suit. Seems like she caught her stalker. She wasn’t sure if the woman was involved too but if she was, then than meant she had two shadows following her footsteps and two was a risky number. To be honest, any number higher than one was a risky number. Two spies in a mission called for a higher risk of being detected. A single spy was easier to conceal and had lesser chances of making mistakes. Two or more called for attention and hiding their trail was a lot trickier. 

     She wasn’t sure how long they had been watching her. Maybe just a few minutes or probably the moment she arrived at the hotel. Nevertheless, she didn’t need to think what to do next. She would continue with the charade of acting unaware. After all, all good things come to those who wait. She’ll let them think they were trailing her when in fact she was already ahead of the game. From the corner of her eyes, she studied the man. He seemed to be in his early forties and had salt and pepper hair. Her eyes flickered to the woman, a redhead in her late thirties. 

     She was just thinking of how to lure them in when her phone rang. Staring at the caller id she was surprised to see Davis’ name on it. Furrowing her brows, she stood and started to walk away as far as possible from the lobby. Making sure she was out of earshot, she answered the phone. 

     “Hello?” 

     “Mirava, there’s no time to explain. I need you to head to the airport. I have a special task for you.” Davis answered, his tone urgent. 

     She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He was sending her into another espionage mission. Great, just great. “What is it?” 

     “I’ll be sending you the details later. First, I need you to go to Paris.” 

     Her brows furrowed. He was being annoyingly cryptic. “Fine.” She said with finality before ending the call. She let out a big sigh of frustration. Suddenly her phone beeped, signaling a message had arrived. Scanning the contents, she started to walk towards the rotating doors. Her driver had arrived. Seems like she’ll have to put her earlier mission aside and focus on her new assignment. 

_August 18, 2045_

_Paris, France_

     She toyed with the stem of her wineglass as she waited for her target to show up in his penthouse by the Seine. During the entire flight, she was briefed about this meeting. As she had expected, this turned out to be another one of Davis’ schemes. She remembered her temper flaring up as she learned more about his demands to have her steal information from the French Prime Minister himself.

     To be honest, she was getting real tired of being used as a pawn by Davis.

     Sighing through her nose, she slowly reclined back on the chaise longue, stretching her legs onto the side. She was just taking a small sip of her martini when she heard the door of the penthouse open and then close. Seems like he had arrived. 

     Immediately, she felt herself loosen down and centered herself into her character. Footsteps echoed loudly against the marble tiles before finally, Twenty-five year old Adrien Perrault came into her view in an exquisitely tailored dark grey suit and tie. 

     As he caught sight of her in his couch, his dark grey eyes widened a little before he levelled her with a satisfied smirk. 

     “Alexis, a pleasure to see you again.” His dark eyes roamed down her body, taking in the white v-neck midi dress she wore. “Though I must say this is a bit of a surprise.” His eyes glinted with male satisfaction as they stared into her. Aiming a small, innocent smile at him, she cocked her head to the side. “Your assistant let me in. I hope you don’t mind?” 

     “No, no.” He shook his head. “In fact, I was looking forward to seeing you again,” Adrien answered as he sat next to her. “I was starting to feel quite lonely without you.” 

     If she was her true self she would have narrowed her eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation but Alexis Rivera would smile, tease, and laugh coquettishly. So she did just that. “Well from what I’ve heard, you’ve amused yourself quite well while I was away.” She said, referring to the numerous amount of women he was seen with. 

     “My, my. Is that jealousy I hear?” he asked as he pressed a hand on the chaise lounge. The spot was dangerously close to her waist. 

_You hear what you want to hear, pig._

     She remained silent. 

     “You know, if you want my attention, you only need ask.” His voice came out husky as he started to lean towards her. 

     She made herself lean towards him, their faces only a breaths’ space apart before she shifted her head to the side as she placed her wineglass down on the coffee table. Right next to her, she felt Adrien’s chest vibrate in laughter. 

     “Oh Alex, you haven’t changed.” 

     “Stop calling me that.” She scowled at him. “You know I don’t like that nickname.” 

     He flashed her with a proud smirk. “What should l call you then?” he purred into her ear as he started to caress the bare skin on her shoulder. 

     She remained quiet, even as he started to suckle her neck. She had to endure this treatment, even if this man’s touch was making her feel ill. 

     “Ma chérie? Ma belle? Mon bijou?” He punctuated each name with a kiss against her throat. 

     Pulling back, she leveled him with an unamused stare. “How many times have you used those pet names on women to get them into bed with you?” 

     He did not even have the gall to look ashamed as he met her stare with a proud look. “Ma chérie, you have to give me more credit than that. When l see a woman l want, l use more than a bunch of silly ass names to get them into bed with me.” He said the last sentence while he unclasped the long hair ornament that was holding her hair together. Immediately her long dark locks spilled over her shoulders. 

     She raised a challenging brow at him as she clasped his hand that was holding the hair accessory. “Oh? What else is in your arsenal, Adrien?” She purposely rolled his name on her tongue. 

     “Aside from my obvious devilish looks and charms, I’d say it’s the ability to sweep women off their feet.” 

     She couldn’t help but laugh at his arrogance. “My someone thinks highly of himself.” 

     He shrugs. “I’m the Prime Minister of France. I think I’m allowed to. Now, let’s continue where we left off…” He says as he pressed himself to her, claiming her mouth. 

     She tried her best not to gag at the feeling of his tongue coaxing her mouth open. 

_Focus, Mir._

     She opened her mouth, letting him in even if she felt her stomach trying to heave its contents up. Reining herself together, she placed a gentle hand on the nape of his head. With a small, quick movement of her hand, the pointy end of the hair ornament pierced his skin. Like a spell, she felt Perrault stop his ministrations. His body leaning heavily against hers. Pulling herself away into a stand, Adrien flopped into the couch in a deep slumber induced by a powerful sleeping drug laced on the hair ornament. 

     With the back of her hand, she wiped her lips in disgust. Grabbing Perrault, she started to drag him into his study. Once they reached it, she made her way to the large Degas painting attached to the wall. The painting hid the entrance to Perrault’s safe where it contained a number of documents best kept hidden. 

     Moving the painting aside, she pressed Perrault’s left hand on the scanner. She heard a small click. Quickly setting Perrault down on a leather seat, she put on her leather gloves before sifting carefully through the pile of documents. 

     Her eyes quickly scanned through the documents, looking for the information Davis ordered her to find. It took some time but she finally found it. Using the small camera hidden on her glove, she quickly took a few snapshots of the document before she carefully placed the documents back in order. Sealing the safe shut, she placed the Degas painting back on the wall. Next, she removed her gloves before shoving them back down her purse. Taking Perrault, she dragged him to his bedchambers. Setting him down on the bed, she made quick work by rumpling up the sheets, messing up his hair, removing his clothes except for his boxers, and strewing them all over the floor. Let him think what he wants to think when he woke up. Besides, he will wake up with a huge headache in the morning though he’ll probably have a few hazy memories. Quickly writing a note before signing it, she placed it on his desk. 

     Returning to the study, she surveyed the area for anymore signs of her intrusion. Satisfied with what she saw, she went back towards the parlor and into the kitchen. Taking out a few bottles of red wine, she opened the contents and spilled some down the drain. Snatching a wineglass, she went back towards the parlor before arranging the empty bottles on the glass table, along with the wineglasses. She made sure to make the scene resemble that of a small drinking party for two people. Taking a tissue, she dipped it on the wineglass before heading back to the bedroom. Wiping the alcohol on Perrault’s mouth and neck to make him stink of alcohol, she surveyed her work. Everything must appear believable. 

     All it took was one small slip up and she could jeopardized everything she had worked so hard to build. As an unincorporated and unorganized country of undisclosed amount, keeping her real identity a secret was a necessity and completely unnegotiable. If no one knew she existed, she could keep her people safe. She could keep herself safe. But being an American protectorate was like wielding a double edged sword. Sometimes it worked in her favor, sometimes it was the opposite. But when it came to her people’s safety, she would barter with the devil himself just to keep them away from harm. 

     The silent drive back to her small rental cottage on the outskirts of the Paris was completely uneventful. During the ride, she notified Davis she would return in the morning. He gladly accepted, being in a strange chirpy mood. 

     Finally, the headlights of her car illuminated the quaint, countryside cottage she had chosen for her entire stay. Turning the ignition off, she disembarked and made her way down the gravelly path. Unlocking the door to the house, she turned the knob open. Reaching inside, she slid the deadbolt back in before locking the doorknob. Flicking the light switch on, she was greeted by the charming sea green walls and the lightly chipped white painted table and chairs. She bit her lip as her eyes roamed the space. The entire place screamed comfort and coziness. She chose this place specifically due to her preference. On any other day in her field of work, she would have chosen a hotel room but with the stress of her work hounding her in every corner, her mind craved for solitude and peace. 

     With an audible sigh, she made her way upstairs to her bedroom. Placing her purse on the night stand, she headed towards the bathroom to prepare for a long, hot shower to erase any filth left by Perrault. She quickly undressed and hopped inside. Turning the knob on, she sighed in bliss as the hot water slid on her skin. Running her hands in her wet hair, she enjoyed the small ritual before scrubbing her skin diligently. 

     The shower took fifteen minutes and she finally stepped out back into her room. After getting dressed in a simple white Tee and loose black drawstring pants, she made her way downstairs to get something to drink. Pulling out a glass of wine and a wineglass, she made her way towards the living room. Sipping the wine, she studied the photographs hanging on the wall. Most were of picturesque scenes of gardens and cliffs. A few of the owner and her family. Suddenly, something caught her eye that caused her breathing to stop for a second. Reaching a hand out, she took the framed picture in her hand. She studied its weight in her hand. It was large almost twice the size of her hand and the thick glass covering it would surely hurt a person if thrown properly. 

     Without hesitation, she threw the picture, frame and all at the man standing behind her. That sudden move took him by surprise as he lowered the hand that was holding the gun to shield his face as the framed picture hit him squarely on the neck. Wasting no time, she grabbed his hand, fighting for control over the gun. The element of surprise was quickly fading away as the masked man grunted to take his footing back. Gritting her teeth, she knew she needed to end this as soon as possible. She didn’t know who this man was and why he was here but if she thought about the worse case scenario, this guy was probably not here on coincidence and was most likely not alone. 

     Studying her opponent, he was at least 6 feet tall and built like an ox. On the other hand, she was tiny yet fast but also highly at a disadvantage. She needed a weapon fast and if centuries of training for her life meant anything, she knew she needed to use whatever she had on her arsenal. Swinging the wineglass at his head as hard as she could, the blow hit him squarely on the temple. Glass shattered and flew everywhere. The man let out a curse as his hand flew to the side of his head. Taking the opportunity, she swiftly winded her leg behind his, making him lose his balance. With a loud crush, he hit the floor on his wrist. He let out a loud howl of pain as he clutched his wrist that was bent in an unnatural angle. 

     She didn’t have time to examine her work. Grabbing his gun, she ran but was stopped when another man came barreling right up to her with a knife in hand. She swerved right at the last second before shooting him on his leg. She continued running only to see more men flood through the front door. Cursing her luck, she ran upstairs while shooting bullets behind her to buy some time. Quickly grabbing her purse, she locked herself in her bathroom. Running towards the sink, she took out her improvised bomb from where she hid it under. She quickly lit it with her lighter. Hearing the pounding footsteps of the men, she snuck as quietly as she could next to the small vent by the door. Opening it a smidge, she dropped the explosive as far down the hall as she could. The small black cylinder hit the hard wood floor with a clutter before it rolled down towards the direction of the stairs. 

     She listened to it as it rolled away before it fell off the edge of the stairs one step at a time. _Thunk, thunk, thunk._

     It cluttered down the steps for some time before it finally exploded into a series of small explosions, crackling the air and causing havoc with the men downstairs. Frantic shouts and the sounds of feet stampeding down the staircase ensued. Taking the guns she stashed in the bathroom, she quickly opened the door firing shots at the men trapped between her and the staircase. One by one they fell like trees being cut down. She needed to get downstairs to get to her car. She could feel her nerves inside her body standing on edge on what was next to come. Ever so slowly, she slowly made her way downstairs, her senses alert and her muscles humming in anticipation. The cottage was now engulfed in a thick blanket of smoke and the air filled with the smell of residue from the bomb. But no signs of the men came into view. 

     Finally, she reached the last step before she inched her way down the hall. The whole time the cottage was filled with nothing but eerie silence. Her heart raced as she neared the corner, her instincts hyperaware. Ever so slowly, she reached the corner. Leaning her body against the seafoam wallpapers, she took a deep breath readying herself. Right before she was about to step out into the open, the undeniable sound of a scuffle suddenly ensued right ahead the hall. Scrunching her eyes in confusion, she couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was happening now. 

     The sound of struggle and bodies hitting the walls continued for a few minutes before finally it suddenly ceased. As soon as they were gone, it was quickly replaced by the sound of footsteps crunching on broken glass. Judging by the footfalls, she could tell they belonged to one person only. 

     She could feel a scowl marring her features as the sound drew itself closer into her direction. Hefting the gun up, she was about to step out from the shadows to confront the mystery person when a hushed voice hissed from around the corner. 

     “Psst!” 

     Her eyes narrowed, she kept still waiting for the opportune moment to strike. 

     “Psst, Mir!” an urgent voice called out from the hall. 

     She could feel her brows shoot up in surprise. She knew the owner of that voice. She quickly stepped out from the shadows to see the mystery person. She couldn’t believe her eyes at the sight of him. 

     “Alfred?” 

     Upon seeing her, Alfred immediately marched towards. Ignoring the dumbfounded look on her face, he grabbed her by the shoulders pulling her close to him. His eyes darted all over her form, wild and frantic before they settled back on her face. She was more shocked to see that his usual wide eyed gaze and dopey smile was replaced by a grim look. One she had not seen since the mass shooting at Orlando. 

     “Alfred…” She couldn’t help but call out again, just to be sure. Her mind was now reduced into chaos and Alfred’s sudden arrival brought her a small sense of relief. She didn’t know why but like a switch, she suddenly felt completely and utterly drained, like all the stress had sucked out all of her remaining energy. She could feel her legs tremble, the sudden rush of adrenaline slowly leaving her veins. During the attack, she had not allowed herself to sink in fear and panic. But now, she could feel her small sense of control slipping. She felt frozen and the impending sense of danger quickly reared back its ugly head from the shadows of the crevices of her mind. Her breathing started to become more erratic. So close. So freaking close. 

     As if sensing the downward spiral she was in, Alfred pulled her into his arms. His hand cupping the back of her head pulling her closer to him. Resting his head on her shoulder, he continued to hold her as if he afraid she would disappear. 

     “I thought I’d never make it in time.” His voice came out in a hoarse whisper. She couldn’t help but grasp the lapels of his jacket. Tears prickled her eyes but she held them at bay. There were moments when one should be weak and when one should be strong. This was one of the moments that she had to be the latter. Alfred was here and she was safe. That was all that mattered. 

     “How did you know?” She asked as she stepped back from his embrace to look at him, desperately needing to know how he knew about the plot against her. 

     Alfred’s eyes were solemn and unwavering as he answered her. “I received a call from Matthew. His men were able to intercept a message about orders on capturing you.” 

     She felt her heart stop. Someone was on her trail. Breathing sharply through her nose, she processed the information in her head before slowly nodding. _Thank you, Matthew._ She couldn’t help but thank her dear friend. If it wasn't for him and Alfred, who knows what could have happened. She’ll deal with her unknown foes later. For now, she needed to get away, and plan for proper counter measures and retaliation. 

     “We should get going. It’s not safe for you here.” Alfred said as he started to steer her towards the entrance. 

     She remained quiet, only nodding in response. She had to stay calm and sharp. She always knew she had a target on her back but no one had ever come this close to hitting the mark. Years of hiding under the shadows had made her complacent. This encounter had surely taken her surprise but she won’t let it happen a second time around. Whoever did this, whoever was behind this, they went for her. Clearly, they knew something was up about her. She did not know the full extent of how much they knew about her real identity and status as a nation but she did knew that she and her people's lives were in jeopardy. Years of meticulous planning and rigorous defensive measures all down the drain because of her carelessness. 

     She cursed herself for believing she could live a peaceful life. Now she knew, she never could be truly safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next update, just as promised! Please enjoy! :)


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